


Foundling

by SnowWhiteKnight



Series: Found [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Adoption, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bread Riot, Canon Divergence - Red Wedding, F/M, Found Child, Lady Arya, Lady of the Crossing, Minor Gendrya, Momma!Sansa, Papa!Sandor, Queen Daenerys, Secret Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-15 13:48:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 41,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8058712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowWhiteKnight/pseuds/SnowWhiteKnight
Summary: A lone dog steals a little bird, intent on returning her to her family. Then they became parents.





	1. I Could Keep You Safe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SassyEggs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SassyEggs/gifts).



“Your grace.”

Robb looked up from his letter. “Yes?”

“There is a small group requesting an audience with you. A young woman and her mute husband. Her brothers as well.”

Robb sighed, tired of all the formalities. “Can it wait? I am writing letters of great importance.”

“I don't think she can wait, your grace. She's been by every day for the past four. She says it's very important. ‘Dire importance’ were her exact words, with an emphasis on _dire._ ”

Robb frowned. Grey Wind sat next to him. If they meant any harm, he was ready. “Send them in.”

The servant bowed and soon a woman entered, followed by a short boy, a medium-sized man, and a large man holding a bundle in his arms.

The woman looked very familiar, one of her brothers, too, though their clothes were poor and faces browned a bit by the sun. “Robb…” she said, covering her smiling mouth with her hands and nearly bursting with emotion. “It's really you…”

Realization clicked in his head. “San...sa? Sansa!” He attacked her with a hug and kisses on her cheek.

“How about me? Not like I haven't been through the ringer,” the boy said. _Not a boy! It's…_

“Arya!” It became a threefold hug between the siblings.

Robb excused himself to run to the hall to ask a servant to bring his mother. Returning to his study, he hugged Sansa and then Arya again. “Oh gods, how? How is this possible? We received word that you died in a riot!”

Sansa shook her head. “I left the capital during that riot, the day Princess Myrcella was sent to Dorne. Many people were lost or killed. I've been traveling since then, trying to get back to you. Had a few adventures. And Arya was never caught after...after Father…” He embraced her as she struggled with her words.

“I lived as a street urchin when they captured Father,” Arya said quietly. “I escaped with the help of the Night’s Watch, the day they chopped off Father's head. I owe a debt to them, one I plan to repay. I also had a few adventures.”

A cry cut through the somber atmosphere. Sansa wiped any tears from her eyes, gave Robb a nervous smile and retrieved the bundle from the large man. Pulling back the cloth, Robb’s heart hammered in his chest as he saw what had made the sound.

“Sansa…”

“Yes?” She was cooing at it. Arya was watching Robb intently.

_“Who's baby is that?!”_

She looked up at him in surprise. “Forgive me, Robb. May I introduce Sandor Clegane,” the large man pulled back his cowl to reveal the scarred sworn shield of King Joffrey, “my husband.”

_“Husband?!”_

“Yes, and this,” she held up the child, black tuffs of hair sticking out all over the place, his bright grey eyes shining with curiosity, “is our son.”

**********

**Approximately Four Months Ago**

_“No, little bird. I won’t hurt you. I could...I could keep you safe…” he said. “They’re all afraid of me. No one would hurt you again, or I’d kill them.”_

He was holding her arms tightly, but she didn’t quite feel it anymore. She stared at him, mouth agape. They were hiding in a building, chaos out on the streets, the starving smallfolk were yelling for Joffrey’s head. The Hound had just saved her from men who meant to rape her and he had her pinned against a wall. No one was paying attention to them, he could easily have taken up where those men left off, yet she knew he wouldn't. Was he really offering her what she thought he was offering?

“Has the little bird been frightened to speechlessness?” he jeered. “I'll take you to the Keep--”

“I’ll go with you,” she said. He looked surprised. “Let us leave this wretched place. I don’t have anything with me, though…”

“It’s fine,” he said, loosening his grip on her. “I’ll handle it. We have to go. _Now.”_

He hid her in a tavern far from the riot, rented a room and told her to stay. “What do you need from your rooms?” he asked. She gave him a short list, and where he could find each item. “A doll?” He raised an eyebrow.

“My...my father gave it to me. Before… It was the last thing…” She bowed her head so he couldn’t see her tears.

He sighed heavily. “I’ll get it. Just stay in this room, and don’t leave. Don’t answer the door to anyone but me, got it?”

“Yes, I understand.”

**********

It had been awkward at first, travelling on the Hound’s war horse together. It was still awkward, but it was now _less_ awkward. He had managed to find the beast on his way back to retrieve her from the tavern, as well as some clothing to replace her torn frock. She looked more like a nobody, though the Hound had snorted that she still looked like nobility, and to keep her head down and her hair covered. “Too pretty to be smallfolk,” she thought she heard him mutter. She felt pleased and also somewhat insulted at the same time.

They had soon discovered that while the days were warm, the nights were quite cold, and neither of them had a decent amount of fabric to keep themselves warm, especially since they couldn’t light a fire. Sansa just didn’t know how, and the Hound didn’t want to. She knew why, but when she asked if he would teach her, he said it was for practical reasons that they not have a fire. “Doubt anyone is looking for us, but best to stay as hidden as possible.” For cooking, it was fine, but once the meal was made and done, the fire was put out.

She supposed that was smart, but she was so very cold those first few days. He was, too. She could hear his teeth chattering well into the night. She had nightmares as well, waking up just as the men descended upon her, no Hound to her rescue. Her need to be a lady and her need to be warm and close to her protector warred with each other for four days, and on the fifth day, she made a decision. She said a prayer to the Crone, the Mother and the Maiden to watch over her and protect her chastity, and when it came time to bed down for the night, she waited for him to lay down, then lay down next to him, adding her cloak to his to act as blankets and saying stiffly, “I’m cold and do not wish to freeze to death. I assume you feel the same, but if you object, I will understand and will leave you be.” She decided to not mention the nightmares. Her face felt as hot as Dorne as she waited for his answer.

He merely glanced at her, the burnt side facing her, and said, “Do as you will, little bird. Rather not have to deal with a pretty frozen corpse.” That was all either of them said on the subject, but Sansa had slept more peacefully at his side every night since. He was just so warm and the nights were so cold. It still took some adjustments. He had a tendency to roll over in his sleep, and several times they had both woken up when she squeaked from being squished. She still woke at times from the nightmares, though they were becoming less frequent. He had a few as well, and she had held his head to her breast and stroked his hair to calm him. Then there was the smell. It wasn’t a _bad_ smell, per se, but it was definitely _strong._ She thought that if he had been able to bathe more frequently, it would have been much more pleasant. She didn’t even want to think about her own odor. She had brought some simple soaps, but they had yet to cross a river, or even a creek or a pond sufficient for bathing. The only thing she had been able to do was wet a cloth and wipe her body down as best as she could, but she still felt gross and dirty. The Hound didn’t even do that much.

This was how they slowly progressed, a journey that should have taken less than a month being stretched out so they wouldn’t be found. Travel by day on the Goldroad, hiding when the traffic was heavy, eating a little as they went, talking a bit, more her talking than him (his fault) though he would sometimes answer her questions. She learned a little more about him, mostly by being around him and not because he answered her questions, but not enough for her satisfaction. He liked rabbit stew. He did not like squirrel stew (she had to agree with him on that one). He snored. Not terribly, as she was still able to sleep. He thought about Dornish Sour Red a lot (he sometimes talked in his sleep about "having a taste of red"). He found amusement at her expense, mostly after she had done something foolish, like scream in terror when a deer startled her while she was making water, or how she thought the Bear and the Maiden Fair was just a silly song. After he explained it to her, she had been mortified and refused to talk to him for an entire day. He kept looking at her and chuckling, and would start in on another song that she had thought silly but was just as crude and vulgar. She wanted to hit him. She'd never be able to sing those songs again!

After their supper, they would bed down together for the night, curled together like two cats. _Or like wolves._ Nymeria and Ghost had often cuddled together, and she was reminded of it every time she took her place by his side. She dreamt of happier times, of her future, of her family. She couldn’t really remember the dreams when she woke, but she had the sense that the Hound had been in the dreams. Her comfort with him had grown, and she often found herself clinging to him in the mornings. He never said anything, she wasn’t even sure he knew, since she woke before he did, but her heart beat faster when she realized her leg was thrown over his waist or that she had crawled on top of him. _I’m just trying to stay warm. That’s...that’s all. Mother, Maiden and Crone, cool my blood and my thoughts._

On the twentieth day, four days after they had left the Goldroad to turn north towards the Isle of Faces, their pace slowed even further as they were traveling along what barely passed for a road, Sansa hid in the brush with the Hound’s steed standing further in. She dared not even _think_ the beast’s name, lest she be punished by the gods. The Hound had pushed her towards the black horse when he heard approaching voices, growling at her to stay out of sight until he called for her. They had just woken, and she hadn’t even registered the danger until she was already hidden. The Hound stayed in his spot, waiting for whoever it was. She wondered why he didn’t hide as well, but then realized that if he did, it would be more obvious that they didn’t want to be found as their belongings couldn’t have been packed in time.

Three men, scrawny and rattish, came into view, pushing a fourth person along. The fourth was covered in rags and dreadfully hunched over. Sansa couldn’t even tell if it was a man or a woman.

“Oh ho, what have we here?” the leader of the three said, noticing the camp.

“Keep moving and you may live to see the sun set,” Sandor snarled, rising to his full height. The other two men began to back up, but the leader laughed.

_He must be a bit stupid._

“What is one man against three of us? Even a big one like you,” the leader said. “I think it is you who must tread carefully. Give your gold and supplies over to us and we'll leave you be.”

“That so?” How the leader didn't hear the threat in the Hound’s voice, Sansa would never understand, but it was evident to her and the other two men. The leader advanced on the Hound. _He must be REALLY stupid. How can he not feel the anger, the bloodlust? The Hound hasn’t been able to fight since we left King’s Landing. He hasn’t said anything about it, but I know he feels restless. He’s used to following Joffrey around, being able to train in the yard daily to work out any aggressions. He acts like Arya did when she couldn’t go play outside for days at a time. Maybe this will be good for him, to let off some of that pent up energy._ She was sitting on some moss, and though she was hidden from their view, she could see everything. She was really glad her moonblood had ended just yesterday, or else this would have been more uncomfortable than it currently was.

“So what will it be? Your money or your life?” the leader asked. He was within range for an attack. The Hound was tall and had long arms, a longer reach. She had spent a lot of time in those arms as they traveled by horseback and when they slept. For her, they had become safe and comforting. For this man, they would be his doom. She almost pitied him.

The Hound grinned, “Your life.” He backhanded the leader, sending him flying into the dirt. The other two looked like they wanted to run, but instead they abandoned the hobbled fourth and rushed at the Hound. He didn’t even need his sword, just dodged out of the way and knocked their weapons out of their hands. He was vulnerable without his armor, but lighter and faster. Sansa was beginning to wonder if these men had _any_ experience in battle, or if the Hound was just that good. He seemed to just be playing with them, like a grown dog against three puppies. Surely he wasn’t, even for him that would be foolhardy, wouldn’t it?

She was getting irritated by the thought that he was _that_ bored. So was the leader. “Coward! Stop dancing around and fight!” he screamed.

“Still want my belongings?” he asked, smiling broadly.

 _He IS having fun!_ She felt a little put out. It wasn’t _her_ fault they didn’t have much to talk about. She had tried, but he was so difficult to engage in conversation! Anything, any little kernel of information, if she could just latch on to it, she was just _sure_ she could bond with him. Not that she wanted to _bond_ with him. That was ridiculous. He was her protector. There was a line that could not be crossed. Sleeping next to him didn’t _do_ anything to her. It’s not like she wanted to _keep_ doing that, or be able to talk to him, or even… She stopped that thought. She was _not_ going to entertain such thoughts, _any_ thoughts about him. She ignored the tingling between her thighs as she watched him dance about. _Stupid physical reactions. I'm sure I would not be having these if we didn’t sleep together every night!_

“Alright, alright, fun’s over,” he said, picking up his sword. “Almost feeling sorry I have to kill you. You've provided a break in an otherwise monotonous journey.”

 _I wish I could punch him!_ Arya would have punched him. Arya wouldn’t have broken down and used him as a heating pad though. Arya wouldn’t be with him in the first place.

“Now, last chance,” he rasped. “Will you leave peaceably, or--” The leader charged forward and was immediately skewered by the Hound’s sword. Sansa grimaced at the sight. It was quite disgusting to see the man’s insides become his outsides, but she had seen far worse. “Guess that answers that…”

He pulled his sword from the dead man with a wet slurp. Sansa had no idea that much blood could come out of a person. The other two men ran off as fast as they could. She couldn't blame them. Part of her wanted to run as well, though she knew she wouldn't make it far.

The fourth person had crumpled to the ground. The Hound went to check them. He pulled back the hood and then looked over to where Sansa was hiding. “Come on out, little bird. This one won't hurt you. Probably could use your help.”

She hesitated for a moment. She really was upset that the Hound found her lacking as a travel companion, but if someone was hurt…

She pointedly ignored him as she went to the person on the ground, then looked at them in surprise. It was a woman. Her bright grey eyes were frantic as she lay there dying. Her blonde hair was matted with blood, and it looked like parts of her hair had been torn out. The Hound stepped aside as Sansa knelt beside her. She took the woman's hand gently.

“De...men?” she asked Sansa. Some of her teeth had been knocked out, her face bloody and bruised. Her nose looked broken and one eye was swelled shut. She could only imagine what else they had done to her. _Cowards. I hope the gods are just when it come to their fate._

“Dead,” Sansa told her. “The leader is, anyway. The other two ran, but my…” She wasn't quite sure how to refer to the Hound. “My travel companion will likely kill them if they return. You needn't worry about them.”

The woman breathed a sigh of relief. Her next words didn't make much sense to Sansa. “My… ay...eeee… please… a… lone… riv-- riv…er...” The light in the woman's eyes died before she could finish. Sansa wept for her. _At least she wasn't alone at the end._

A hand descended onto her shoulder. “We should go, little bird. Nothing we can do for this one now. She was alone.”

_If I hadn’t been here… It would have been those men... How sad…_

“I've finished packing our belongings. No time to bury her, nor do we have the basic tools to do so even if we did, if that's what you're thinking.” She hadn't been thinking that, but now she felt bad that they couldn't. She said a prayer to the gods for the woman. “We should leave--”

“Can we go in that direction?” Sansa said suddenly. They needed to get to the river. _Why would she use her dying breath to tell me of it if it wasn't important?_

The Hound was startled. “I suppose...”

Sansa stood up and started walking in the direction the men had come from, ignoring the Hound’s protests. _What was she trying to say?_ She tried her best to follow the path made by the men, but she had never learned to track and could only follow the obvious paths. There had been a light rainfall earlier in the dark hours of the morning, and their footsteps had been marked in the softened soil.

She could hear the Hound and his steed behind her, following her cautiously. She had no way of knowing how far away the river was or when the men found the woman. They might have been at it for days for all she knew. She thought about the woman's injuries and her own experience with similar ones. _No, those were fresh cuts and bruises. She must have put up a heck of a fight immediately. They couldn't have gotten far at the rate they were ambling along. I think… Oh! Arya was always much better at this sort of thing. I wish she was here._ She heard a snort from the horse, reminding her that she was not alone. _Oh... I suppose I could ask him. He might be able to help._ She felt silly to not have thought about it earlier.

“Um…” She had no idea what to call him. Another fallout from the lack of conversation. _Hound_ was awkward. _Dog_ was completely out. He refused to be called _ser_ or _my lord._ She couldn’t call him _Sandor,_ it was much too familiar. Possibly _Clegane_ but it felt just as awkward as _Hound._ She wondered if she could come up with a name for him like he had for her. _Growly_ would suit him, but she was sure he wouldn't appreciate that.

“Finally decided to let me in on whatever harebrained notion you got into your head?” he asked. He joined her side and looked down at the footprints in the mud. “Following where they came from? To what end?”

“The woman...she mentioned the river... I think… If you are able, will you help me track their movements back to the river? She asked me to...do something there... I think.”

“You think?”

“Are you able and willing to help or not?” she asked, trying to not sound as frustrated and embarrassed as she felt. _How does he manage to make me so flustered? He's the same as he was in King’s Landing. Except I'm around him a lot more now._

He looked at her for a few moments. “Fine. Get on Stranger though. Will be faster.” He helped her up and led the horse by the reigns. “You did alright, following their trail. Granted, a blind man could have followed these idiots, but…”

She really wanted to slap him. She _knew_ she wasn't good at this sort of thing, why did he have to point it out? She refrained from yelling at him to keep his damned comments to himself, as it was her next inclination. _Very unladylike._

“She was probably speaking of one of the tertiary rivers of the Blackwater Rush. What else did she say?”

Sansa bit her lip. She was fairly certain that the Hound would think her a silly girl, and she didn't want him to think that about her. “Just that she left…something. It was hard to understand her. I thought that even if we don't find it, we could take some time and…” She didn't want to say “bathe”. Yes, they both needed it, but he was neither her kin nor her husband, and it just seemed too _familiar._

_Besides, I do NOT want to see him bathe. At all. See his muscles ripple under wet skin... I just want him to...smell better. Of course. That's all. And for me to smell less foul._

“Had enough of my stink? Well, you're no flower either, you know. It was your idea to cozy up every night. Don't blame me for that.” He sounded upset.

“That's not--!! I didn't--!! You could have said no if it bothers you so much!” She _really_ wanted to slap him. She took a deep breath instead, but it was a while before she felt calm enough to say, “It is nothing against you. I am not used to going so long without a bath and I itch constantly. Even if I can only get a bit of the dirt and grime off of me, I would greatly appreciate it. If you do not wish to bathe, you are a grown man and do not have to,” she shoved aside the disappointment she felt. _I do NOT want to see that. At all. Period._ “If my odor is so offensive, you should have said so sooner and I would not have forced my presence upon you at night.”

He didn't look at her and she felt her heart sink. _How bad do I smell!?_

The sound of water got both of their attention. She held herself as far from him as possible when he helped her dismount. She was already embarrassed enough, she did not need to see him wrinkle his nose at her as well. “I will take a look around this area,” he told her. “You can go bathe to your heart’s content. Yell if you need me, but Stranger will stay close to you as a lookout.”

 _Need him for what? To scrub my back?_ Her face lit up with a full on blush and she turned to collect what she would need from where it was packed on the horse. He didn't seem to notice, thankfully. _In case someone tries to attack you! That is what he meant!_ She mumbled her thanks and slunk off to the river. She didn't even stop to think about what she was doing, just peeled off her sweat soaked clothes and waded into the chilly water. The nights might be cold, but the sun made the days warm enough. It wasn't as deep as she would have liked, but it was sufficient. The horse nibbled on a patch of clovers close to the river bank. The Hound was nowhere to be seen. She ignored the additional disappointment. _This is a good thing. He's been very honorable towards you. Stop being so wanton! You're only feeling attracted to him because he's...wait, no, not attracted. Who would be attracted to him?! He’s mean, rude, doesn't pay attention to anything but our safety, which is of course important, but… ugh, why am I obsessing over this?!_

She dunked herself under the water, staying there until her lungs burned and cried out for air. She emerged from the water as quietly as she could, not wanting to spook the horse. He was duly unimpressed with her and merely flicked his ears. _I wonder how much longer we will be on the road together? Will Robb accept the Hound into his army? Maybe...as my shield? I've gotten used to having him around, and I DO feel safer with him than anyone else._

She sighed and got her soap. It was useless to think he would want to stay with her longer than necessary, he didn't seem to like her much. Working up a small lather, she scrubbed her skin as clean as possible, digging her fingers into her scalp as she washed her hair. The water around her became cloudy from the soap and the dirt, but she felt so wonderful. A hot bath would have been heaven, but this was definitely bliss. She washed her dress last. She had the second dress so she wouldn't need to wait for this one to dry, but having it clean for the next opportunity would be nice. She was nearly done with the dress when she heard it. The horse heard it, too, his ears flicking towards it. A small noise, coming from the other side of the river. She stood as still as possible, hoping that it was just a rabbit or something like that. A wail erupted from the plants. _A baby!?_ She rushed forward and parted the large leaves to reveal an infant boy, no more than three months old.

She tried to remember what the woman had said. _“My… ay...eeee… please… alone… riv-- riv…er...”_

 _She meant...her baby was alone at the river…_ Carefully, she picked up the crying baby and held him close. “There, there, sweet one. It will be alright. I've got you,” she murmured softly. The baby's cries lessened, and stopped altogether when his mouth found her breast. _Oh!_ It was a strange sensation. _He must be hungry...how long ago did those men drag his mother away?_ Long enough, she supposed. “Sweet one, you won't get any milk from there,” she said, sad that she couldn't provide for him. He seemed content with her, and she couldn't bring herself to stop him.

“Sansa!” she heard the Hound yell. She turned in time to see him crash through the trees, panting and panicked. He stared at her, then down at the babe in her arms, suckling at her naked breast. She was fairly sure her entire body turned red from mortification and embarrassment. “Bugger me…” he said and closed his eyes. He turned around and walked just out of view.

Slowly, she walked back to that side of the river, the chill of the water a relief on her smoldering skin. She placed the baby on the riverbank. He snuffled and began to cry, but she cooed at him as she put on her second dress. Picking him up again, he settled down in her arms as she carried him back to the Hound. The horse followed her of his own accord. He apparently knew he was her guard when the Hound was not around.

“I found a baby,” she said. Sitting beneath a tree, he looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

“I noticed. How did you manage to do that? Where’s its mother?” he asked.

She shuffled her feet nervously. “I believe we may have met her this morning.”

The Hound frowned at her, then realization dawned in his eyes. “Her.” Sansa nodded. “Give it here. I can make it quick and painless.”

It was Sansa's turn to frown. “What are you talking about? Make what quick and painless?”

The Hound stared at her like she was an idiot. “It would be a mercy to end it now,” he said, his mouth set in grim determination.

The cogs in her head churned as she tried to figure out what he was talking about. Oh. Oh! _“No!”_ she hissed, horrified and holding the baby close to her breast.

He gave her a strained look, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “Little bird…”

“No!”

“We can't take it with us. It won't survive without a mother. Or more specifically, a mother's milk. Who's going to provide that? You? Even if you did find a supply, babies are loud, demanding attention constantly, it could easily get us caught.”

She glared at him. “You are _not_ killing him. I would rather die than let that happen.”

He stood up and rose to his full height, looming over her like some dense idiot. “I will not travel with it.”

She clenched her jaw. She knew she wouldn't survive without his protection. If any evil men found her like they found this child’s mother… No, she couldn't. She _wouldn't._

“Why don't you go bathe?” she asked, glaring at him.

“I'd rather take care of that,” he pointed to the baby, “before washing off.”

“I don't care _what_ you'd rather do. I'm going to make sure he's asleep before you can do anything to him,” she snarled.

The Hound wasn't pleased, but got the soap and headed down to the river.

“Bring my dress when you return,” she called after him. He waved his hand in dismissal before disappearing into the trees.

Setting the baby down in a spot of moss, she turned toward the surly horse. _So much like his master,_ she thought angrily. Carefully, she approached him. He regarded her with suspicion, but the Hound had smacked him the last time he tried to bite her. Still cautious, she relieved him of the bundle that contained her few belongings, hobbled him as she had seen the Hound do, and backed away from him before he decided to try his luck and bite her again. It probably wouldn't hold for long, but maybe just long enough? She could only hope so.

She tied the bundle around her back, securing the knot across her chest, and picked the baby up again, ignoring the terrified feeling in the middle of her tummy as she made herself ready to leave her protector. She knew the Hound would be able to track her if he really wanted to, so she didn't even try to think of ways to disguise her footprints as she walked away. "I could keep you safe, sweet one," she told the babe. "No one will hurt you, not while I'm around."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is why I needed a break from Demon Bride. :9 I'm thinking I could update each one once weekly. Thoughts?


	2. Fly Away

Being with the baby wasn't much different than being with the Hound. Neither spoke, but at least the baby seemed to enjoy her company. She felt bad for leaving the Hound behind, but he was the one who had given her a choice and she had chosen. She'd rather die protecting this child, then let him die simply because the Hound believed him to be an inconvenience.  _ He's just a baby, it's not his fault his mother is no longer around. She decided his safety was more important than her own, how can I say anything different? _

She missed the Hound already, would definitely miss the warmth he provided at night, and she was fairly certain she had condemned both herself and the child to die if they ran into any unscrupulous characters. She wondered briefly if he would come for her, then chastised her own foolishness. 

_ He won't follow me. What am I to him? Nothing but a burden. He will probably be relieved to be rid of me. I left him the majority of the jewelry as well, so he won’t be penniless. Oh, a path… _ She had been following the river, keeping the sound of it to her left, and the grassy field she walked through had thinned out and soon became a noticeable road. She had been walking for a while, but how long was something she couldn't determine, though the sun was noticeably lower in the sky. If he had wanted to, the Hound would have found her by now.  _ I guess I really was a burden, _ she thought. It depressed her more than she expected. 

It was near evening when she came across the house. An older woman taking down her laundry saw her. “Hello, dearie!” she said, waving to Sansa. “You're not from around here.”

“Oh...no, I'm not,” she replied.

“Traveling on your own then? Brave soul.” The woman tsked and continued folding her laundry into her basket. A small goat was tied to a tree a little ways farther. He chewed on the grass around him in a very bored manner.

“Oh, no, I'm…” She couldn't say she was running away from the king. Or that she had abandoned her protector. “I was traveling with my husband, but there were some bandits, and we became separated. I'm sure he'll find me soon, but I also found this baby boy near the river. His mother...she was a victim of the same bandits, I believe. I was hoping to find her family.”

The woman frowned and put down the laundry to come look at the baby in Sansa's arms. “Oh! This is...Jenna’s son. Her husband, Malcolm, passed away before the babe was born. You say she's…”

“Yes,” Sansa said quietly. “I was with her at the end.”

The woman made the sign of the seven. “I told her to not wander too far from home. She loved to walk with her child though. She was used to much more freedom where she came from. Come in and rest yourself, child. I'm sure your husband will be by soon. I have some fresh goat milk we can give the babe.” 

Sansa's arms ached as she handed him over to the woman and followed her inside, though her legs were not as bad. She had ignored it while she had walked, focusing on keeping the baby from crying from hunger. He was a very good baby in that regard. He fussed a great deal, but didn't cry much. An older boy, maybe seven or eight, ran up to the woman as they entered. 

“Henry, be a good boy and go fetch the laundry. Alys, go help him.” The girl she spoke to, maybe ten years old, scowled, but followed the boy. Another child, a girl of about three or four, stood in a deep crib.

“There you go, wee lamb,” the woman said softly, coddling the boy as he drank from the small skin of milk. “Such a good babe.” 

“Does he have a name?” Sansa asked, taking a chair close to the fire. The sun had been hot that day, but the chill of the evening was already setting in. 

“No. Jenna moved here after her husband died, must have been not long after she realized she was with child. She was of the far North, and followed the custom to not name a child until it had reached two years of age, but she was as gentle a soul as could be. Watched this one with my own a few times, when she had to go to the market with my husband. She was a quiet, closed off woman. I think her husband's death affected her more than she was capable of bearing. I just called him ‘little one’ when I needed to.”

_ Little bird. _ She shook her head to clear his voice out. “I apologize, I haven't introduced myself. I'm…” It suddenly struck her that she shouldn't use her real name. These people wouldn't harm her, most likely, but you don't have to harm someone to betray them. “I'm Jeyne. Jeyne Roderick. My husband is Jory.” It was the first names she could think of. 

“Good to meet you, Jeyne. You can call me Berra. My husband should be back soon. He's Meryn.”

She froze. “Trant?”

“Pardon?”

“Is he...Ser Meryn Trant?” Not here, how could he be here?!

Berra laughed. “Oh heavens! No, he's not a  _ knight. _ My Meryn is a farmer. He and my two eldest boys go out every day and return just after dusk. Oh, dear, I just realized, we won't be able to keep you here, we haven't enough room. Even this little one won't have a place here. Oh! I know. You can stay at Jenna’s hut with the boy. Poor dear, she wouldn't mind, not now…” Berra looked down at the child in her arms. “Have you cared for children before?” she asked. 

“A little. My younger brothers, but it was Old Nan who did the majority of the work.” Berra handed the baby back to Sansa. “I think I can handle it,” she said with less confidence than she wished for. 

“It will be good practice for you when you have your own. Maybe give your husband some ideas when he shows up,” Berra said with a wink. Sansa pictured herself, round with child, sitting by the fireplace as supper cooked, her husband coming in the door after a long day of working in the fields. His hair pulled back in the Northern style, showing his scars-- She shoved the thought away.  _ What? I don't... I couldn't... I don't have FEELINGS for him! I barely know him! _

“Possibly…” she said in a small voice. 

“So what does this Jory look like? I can direct him to you if he should show up here.” Berra handed Sansa a bowl of stew and took the baby back with a skill Sansa envied. 

She sighed. “He’s...tall. Very tall. Long black hair. Grey eyes like metal. Wears armor and wields a broadsword. Rides a monstrous black horse. Oh, he has a burn scar on half his face. He's not the most friendly individual.”

“He sounds awful…” Berra said. 

Sansa shook her head. “Oh, no, he's not awful, not really. Underneath all the thorns and snarling is a decent man. Not a good man, but...not a bad man either. He'd never hurt me, and he swore he'd never let anyone else hurt me again, or he'd kill them. He has his own sort of honor.”

“He sounds a bit better now,” Berra said with a smile. “You must really love him.”

Sansa could only give Berra a weak smile that she prayed looked genuine. 

**********

Sansa slept in Jenna's bed that night and the next several nights after that, with Jenna's child in a rickety looking crib next to her. Her arms were still sore that first morning, but Berra gave her some herbs to chew on. “Best friend to all first time mothers,” she said. “Makes you forget the aches so you can properly care for your child.” 

She named the boy Benjen, after her uncle. Beny, for short. He seemed to like that. He also liked it when she let him play with the doll her father had given her. She had to take off some of the smaller bits to make it safer for him, but she was glad she had asked the Hound to retrieve it.

Meryn was a jolly man, always with a joke and a wink for Berra. He took to Sansa like a grandfather, indeed he looked old enough to be one, while Berra looked about the same age as Sansa’s own mother. They seemed happy, however, so Sansa didn't question it. Their five children ranged from eighteen to four years. Alma was the youngest, then Henry, Alys, and a fourteen-year-old boy named Staven. The eldest, their son Henrick, looked upon Sansa with such a lecherous eye that she took to barricading Jenna's door every night with the chest of drawers. It made her miss the Hound even more. She had slept more soundly at his side on the hard ground than she had in the straw bed. He was mean and vulgar, but she felt safe with him like she had with no other, not since her father had been her protector. The Hound’s few moments of actual conversation had been amusing, making her giggle like a child. (She didn’t count the times he told her things just to see her face turn red.) He always made sure she wasn’t in any possible danger before leaving for whatever reason, such as to hunt or just make water.

She had lost hope on the fifth day that he would come for her, and now was merely biding her time, trying to figure out what to do next, how to get back to her family on her own, but it didn't stop her from praying to the Mother and then the Warrior for him every morning and evening. 

She filled her time learning from Berra about proper child care, answering her questions about her “husband”, how to cook, how to build and light a fire, helping clean and launder, and altered some of Jenna's clothing to wear herself. She hadn't wanted to, feeling it was disrespectful, but Berra insisted that she wear something other than the dress she had shown up in, that Jenna wouldn’t mind. Berra also suggested to her to try nursing Beny. “Mother's milk is best,” she said. “And it's possible, even if you've never given birth before. Takes a bit of time though, if it happens.” Sansa was hesitant at first, but she soon came to enjoy the time she spent with Beny, praying she would be able to nurse him for real and soon. She felt at peace, connected to this beautiful child who had no one else.  _ We're alike in that way, aren't we, Beny? We're both alone in this world, but you can depend on me. I will protect you, sweet one. _

It was a little more than three sennights later that she saw the Hound again. She was feeding Beny, a small trickle of milk had begun from her breasts a sennight past, and now it was strong enough that she could stop supplementing it with the goat’s milk. She had wanted to jump for joy, when she heard the sounds of a rider and horse. It wasn't the first time, and Beny had just started, so she stayed in Jenna's hut. It was likely just someone passing through as it had been the past three times. She hummed a tune for Beny. He liked hearing her sing, and she liked to sing for him. Whenever he was fussy, she sang until he calmed down. Their fourth night together, she had sung herself hoarse before he had settled down. She learned to keep a skin of water with her at times like that.

The hut door flew open, startling her and causing Beny to cry. “Hush, sweet one, no one will harm you,” she cooed at him. A huge figure entered, followed by Berra. 

“Now, Jory, I know you're eager to see your wife, but I must insist you not disturb the babe. He'll be fussing for hours if he doesn't get his meal,” Berra said, scolding the Hound. Sansa was struggling to cover her exposed breast, much to the Hound’s amusement. 

“Don't worry about me,  _ wife,” _ he said. “Isn't like I haven't seen them before.”

She scolded herself mentally as Berra peered at them.  _ Of course, if he was really my husband, this would be nothing new. _ She felt butterflies in her tummy as she let go of the fabric and let Beny get back to his meager meal.  _ And it's true, he HAS seen them before. Twice. _ “It's good to see you again, husband,” she said, keeping her voice soft so that the tremble in it would be less noticeable. “I would get up, but…”

“Don't worry your pretty little head about it,” he said. “I can wait.”

Berra clapped her hands in delight. “I will fix such a feast for us tonight! It's not everyday we get to celebrate a loving reunion.” She almost danced out of the hut, leaving Sansa alone with the Hound. 

“So we’re married then?” he asked. She could feel his eyes on her. Unlike Henrick, the Hound didn't make her feel like she needed a good scrubbing to rid herself of his gaze. 

She said timidly, “I couldn't think of a better story. I should have thought up one in case I ran into anyone, but I didn't and it was the first thing that came to mind when Berra asked me.” 

“It's fine. No one would question a husband and wife traveling.” He looked out the window. He seemed a bit different from the last time she had seen him. Not as tense, she supposed. “Don't you want to know what took me so long?”

“If you wish to share, I would be happy to listen,” she said, switching Beny to her other breast. 

The Hound glanced at her. His expression was a bit odd. “You weren't expecting me to find you, were you?”

“Not really. You made your feelings about Beny perfectly clear. I knew you meant what you said, that is why I left.” She smiled at Beny. “I didn't expect you to follow me at all.”

The air in the hut changed a bit. The Hound was angry, for whatever reason, and she didn't need to look at him to know that. “So why should I stay then? Could just leave you here to play house with a pup that isn't yours.”

“He is  _ mine,” _ she said, her ire growing. “His father is long dead, Berra can't care for him, and there's no one else here.”

“Then we will  _ find _ someone elsewhere. You can't show up to your family with a child, claiming it as your own.” 

“I can't abandon him! I won’t!”

“Why not!?”

“Because I love him as if he were my own!” She sucked in a breath. It was the first time she had admitted it out loud. It hadn't taken long, only a moment really, to fall in love with this child. It was why she swore to protect him, why she had decided to try nursing him herself. She was clenching Beny tightly and he squirmed against her, whimpering as he did so. She relaxed her hold and he went back to feeding. “Forgive me, sweet one. I forgot myself for a moment.” She directed her next words to the Hound. “I may not have given birth to him, but he is  _ my son. _ I will  _ not _ give up on him just because he is not of my blood. Jenna entrusted me with his whereabouts, entrusted me with his safety and health. You can leave if you like, I won't stop you. You are not my husband in truth, so I cannot bind you to stay with me on that premise.” He stomped over to the door and flung it open. “If I may say, just one more thing…”

“What?” he snarled. 

“I did miss you,” she said softly. “Even if you didn't miss me.”

The door slammed behind him. 

**********

He was at Berra’s for the remainder of the afternoon. She was surprised to see him when she entered the cottage. Henry and Alys were hiding from him, poking their heads out every once in awhile to peek at him. Berra smiles broadly at her, “Oh, Jeyne, good. Can you help me chop the vegetables? Just give Beny to Jory. I'm sure he won't mind.”

Sansa hesitated, remembering the last time she had been about to hand the baby to the Hound, he had been ready to kill him. 

“Nothing will happen to him, wife,” the Hound said, his voice gruff. “He's like your own, so I'll treat him as such.” He looked uncomfortable, but his words warmed her heart. She gave Beny to him, kissing Beny and then the Hound on their cheeks. He didn't seem to notice, and maybe he didn't, since it was on the ruined one, but she had felt it was right to do it. He had accepted Beny, at least for the moment, and that deserved a reward.

By the time they finished making dinner, the sun had set and Meryn and the older boys would be home any minute. “Berra! What’s this all about?” Meryn boomed as he saw the fantastic spread. He had a blinding smile on his face as he kissed his wife. Sansa slipped her hand around the Hound’s arm, leaning into him as if she really were his loving wife. He was still holding Beny, who was grabbing at his tunic.

“Knock it off, pup,” the Hound growled, but Beny just gave him a toothless smile and kept trying to grab the hem.

“My love, Jeyne’s husband has come. We are celebrating their reunion.” Berra led Meryn and the elder boys over. Alys and Henry had grown bored of the scarred man and were sitting at the table, waiting and impatient to eat.

“Oh,” Meryn said, hesitating a bit. Sansa noticed that he didn’t look the Hound quite in the eye. “Good to meet you. Jory, right?”

“That’s what my wife says,” the Hound said dryly, shaking the man’s offered hand. Sansa grinned. Trust him to find away around the truth. Though she wasn’t really his wife, so maybe not.

_ “You’re _ her husband?!” Henrick said, his mouth hanging open in shock. Sansa wanted to roll her eyes. Henrick had been persistent in trying to get her alone, but her time in King’s Landing had made her wary and she easily avoided his “traps.” Maybe now that her “husband” was here, he would finally take the hint. She scooted closer to the Hound, looking at him in adoration, which came to her much more easily than she expected. He raised an eyebrow at her, but leaned down and kissed the top of her head. She beamed at him, grateful that he read the room correctly. Berra had to push her son over to his seat at the table. The others had already seated themselves and she could hear Henrick speaking angrily to his mother.

_ It’s going to be a long evening. _

**********

Berra walked them to Jenna’s hut. “I must apologize for my Henrick. He… When you hadn’t shown in that first sennight, he believed you to have abandoned Jeyne. He spoke of marrying her, but I tried to tell him that no man would leave a woman like her behind, not unless he was dead. Such a sweet, caring creature who speaks highly of her husband.” Sansa turned away when the Hound looked at her. Beny was asleep and she became very involved with making sure he stayed that way. “You can see why he may have fallen a little in love with her, but please forgive his bad manners. I can see the love between you two, and I hope that Henrick has as well.”

When they were alone in the hut, and Beny was settled in his crib, Sansa found herself pushed down onto the straw mattress, the Hound hovering above her. “Wife,” he said, menace in his tone.

“Are you terribly angry about this mummery?” she asked softly. She knew she was in no danger, but her heart was beating in double time. When had she stopped fearing him? When did he begin to make her pulse race and loins ache with need? When did she begin to find him attractive and desire kisses from his partially-burned lips?  _ That day he took me from King’s Landing, and somewhere along our journey, though I denied it enough. _

He stroked her cheek, his callused thumb rough against her skin. “No. Not angry. Confused.”

“About?”

“Why name me your husband? Why did Berra say you spoke highly of me? How are you able to act like the loving wife, when we both know you’re the worst liar?”

Her throat felt dry. “It was the first thing I thought of, I promise you. I knew if anyone came looking for me, it would be you, so I gave them your description.” She didn’t dare try to answer the other questions.

“But you didn’t believe I would come.”

“No.”

“You contradict yourself then. You say you didn’t believe I would come. You could have told them your husband died defending you and the pup from bandits, would have made a great song,” he sneered, but she thought it might have been out of habit instead of him truly meaning it. “Instead, you tell them of me, as soon as Berra saw me, she called me Jory and said my  _ wife _ had described me perfectly. I would have kept going past this place if she hadn’t flagged me down.” He growled a little when he said that, but he seemed more angry at himself than at her. “You confuse me.”

“You confuse me, too,” she confessed. She brought her hand up to his ruined cheek. He flinched, but that was all. “Why did you come back for me? You don’t even like me.”

He stared at her, then barked a laugh. “I liked you enough to take you from King’s Landing,” he pointed out.

“But not enough to talk to me, get to know me, let me get to know you. I know…” she lowered her eyes, “I know one of your darkest secrets. But I don’t know what to call you, how to address you.”

“For now, you can just call me husband,” he said with a chuckle. She glared at him.

“You know what I mean.”

“What do you want to call me?”

“Not Hound,” she said immediately. “Definitely not Dog either.”

“You can call me by my given name.”

“Sandor…” she whispered.

“I meant Clegane, but that works, too. Sansa.” He smiled at her, and the way it stretched his scars was horrible, yet it felt like victory as her heart thumped loudly in her chest.

She wanted to ask him if he would kiss her. She wanted to feel his body press into hers, to be claimed by him. Instead, she said nothing and the moment passed. He rolled over to the side and curled around her like she used to do to him when they were on the road. 

“Where were you, since I last saw you?” she asked, willing her heart to calm down.

“Looking for you,” he answered. “Figured out quick enough why you left. Sorry I didn't take your conviction more seriously. Went in the wrong direction, but it took me a while to realize that. Stranger knew. Kept trying to turn us around, but I didn’t listen to him. By the time I... Well, I got back over here as soon as I could. You’re not going to fly away from me again, are you, little bird?”

“Not as long as you behave and don’t try to kill my son,” she said, wrapping her arms around him.

“Never. My son, too, since you married us,” he yawned. “Not a kinslayer.”

“Good,” she whispered. He laughed at that. 

“Might make an exception for Gregor though." He then mumbled, "Missed you, too, Sansa.” She smiled, the butterflies in her tummy going crazy. 

Despite the tension she felt, she was soon asleep, comforted by Sandor’s presence.


	3. Forgiveness and Guilt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of conversation, with a dash of action. Not _that_ kind, sadly. This is rated T, people! Lol

A sennight later, they were ready to continue their journey. “Must you leave so soon? You were just reunited, but I have so loved having you here,” Berra said as Sandor loaded the cart. Meryn had given it to them, telling them it was older, but still in good enough condition. It even had a short roof on it. They didn’t have much to fill it, so they would be able to sleep in the cart at night. They had cleaned out Jenna’s hut of everything they would find useful, but it was sparse to begin with.

“We need to get to my family,” Sansa told her. “I really enjoyed my time with you and if we can, we’ll return to visit. I’m sure Beny would like that.” Berra had given Sansa a specially made sling that Beny was currently resting in. It crossed over her shoulder and around her back. It would be much easier to hold him for long periods of time as they traveled.

“Safe travels, Jeyne, Jory.” She hugged them goodbye. Meryn had gone to his fields, but had said his goodbyes the previous night. The children had hugged Sansa, but only Alys and Henry had hugged Sandor. Henrick hadn't said anything at all, merely glowered at Sandor during the past few days and ignored Sansa. She wasn't unhappy about the change in attitude and didn't mind not saying goodbye to him. 

Once they were on the road, Sansa realized she had no idea where they were going now. Winterfell was still so far away, but was it the wisest choice?

“To Riverrun. Your mother and brother are there,” he said when she asked. He was wearing a peasant tunic and had a hood to hide his face in shadows. His armor and sword were hidden in the cart, but his sword was in easy reach, should he need it. Similarly, she was wearing a peasant dress, altered from Jenna's clothing to fit her. Her hair was braided and covered tightly with a scarf to hide her most notable feature, though they had yet to meet anyone on the little traveled road. He hadn’t mentioned it before, which she found curious. “Didn’t want to spoil the little house you made with news you couldn’t really use, and you didn’t ask,” was his response. “I heard news of them and of the capital while I searched for you. It’s said you died in the riots. Me too, for that matter. Joffrey has taken a new bride, Margaery Tyrell, sister to the pretty knight of flowers. Half of their forces have gone to King’s Landing. Tywin Lannister has the other half with him in the field.”

“Wasn’t she married to Renly?”

Sandor snorted. “They apparently never consummated the union. At least that’s what is said. Joff probably believes it, if he knew Renly at all.” It was a curious statement, but Sansa didn’t ask further. Sandor glanced down at her. “Renly preferred the company of Ser Loras Tyrell to Margaery Tyrell. They were lovers.”

Sansa gaped at him. “You must be joking!”

He laughed. “If only. Things would have been a lot easier on Renly if it weren’t true.”

Sansa’s mind was swimming. “Did he… With Ser Loras, you say? They were in love?”

“Being lovers and being in love are two different things, little bird. Though I would imagine if both apply, it would make the relationship a lot better. That Tyrell chit will have her hands full with Joffrey, but if the stories about her are true, she’ll manage somehow.”

“I just hope she fares better than I did,” Sansa said softly, leaning on Sandor's arm. “No one deserves Joffrey’s cruelty. Well, maybe a few people do, but they won’t be receiving it anytime soon.”

“She has the power of Highgarden behind her, little bird. You had no one.”

“I had you,” she pointed out. 

He laughed. “For all the good it was worth. But one man does not equal Highgarden. She'll be fine.”

“You are more than just ‘one man’,” Sansa persisted. “Joffrey would not have had so much faith in you if you were.”

He gave her a wry smile and didn't argue with her. 

“It's why I have so much faith in you as well,” she added. He didn't respond to that, but she thought he might have been blushing a bit. It was hard to tell. “What of my family?”

“Your grandfather is dying. It’s why your mother is there, why your brother’s troops are using it as a base, I suppose. Hopefully we’ll get there before he dies and they move on.”

Beny started to whimper from hunger and Sansa unbuttoned the top of her dress to give him access. The road wasn't too bumpy and he was able to drink well enough. 

“So we’re headed to Riverrun, then?” she asked.

“Unless you got a better idea.” She shook her head. “Then, onward and forward.”

**********

They continued on like this for a fortnight, even managing to trade a necklace Joffrey had given her for a second horse. A female, though Sansa had no idea what kind it was, since Sandor said Stranger wouldn’t take kindly to another male horse. Sansa named her Pallas. Traveling by day, he would hunt in the evening, and Sansa cooked over an open fire. She wasn't as good as Berra, but Sandor declared her cooking as passable while reaching for seconds and that made her happy. They would extinguish the flames after that and then crawl into the back of the cart to sleep. 

Sansa liked the nights best, even if she was constantly woken up to feed Beny. They would sleep on a thick layer of hay covered by a sheet acting as their mattress. Another sheet covered them, trapping their body heat and making the cold nights bearable. She would be in the middle, Sandor sleeping at her back, his arm wrapped around her waist, and Beny would sleep at her front, wrapped in a warm blanket, safely in her arms. Sandor would tell her of various things in those dark nights as they waited for sleep to claim them. His thoughts, memories, funny anecdotes and grisly stories of his time working as a bodyguard to Cersei and then Joffrey. He took her comments about him not letting her get to know him very seriously. She would tell him of Winterfell, of her family, the stories she had heard from her parents of the Tully side and the Stark side. Once in awhile, Beny would get to be in the middle, but Sandor feared rolling over him like he had done to Sansa when they first started out. She didn't mind too much, as she liked having Sandor behind her, his warm body fitted to hers. Sometimes when she woke up in the early hours of the morning, his manhood was hard and pressed against her bottom. She would press her fingers to the tingle between her legs, which made it better and worse at the same time. She would concentrate on his breathing, on the points where their bodies touched, on his scent that surrounded her. She never quite reached whatever it was that she was looking for, however. 

The covered cart provided enough shelter to keep them warm and Stranger and Pallas were excellent “watchmen”. Twice the horses had alerted them to danger. Once it had been nothing, just some drunks, fellow travelers lost on the road. 

The second time had been bandits, something she was discovering as becoming more common as the war dragged on. They had been incredibly lucky to not run into any others. Sansa had cowered in the cart, attempting to keep Beny safe, as Sandor, Stranger and Pallas dealt with them. Pallas was surprisingly violent towards the bandits. One tried to pull Sansa out of the cart but Beny screamed, startling the man and Sansa was able to kick him in the face, causing him to fall backwards into the dirt. Sandor was on top of him the next moment, bringing his sword down on the top of the man’s skull. Sansa covered Beny’s eyes so he wouldn't see the skull split and the brains leak out. 

Sandor had tossed the bodies somewhere off the road and moved them away from the attack site. His clothing was stained with their blood, but Sansa was only able to exchange those clothes for clean ones and wipe as much of it off of his skin as possible. She had never realized how hairy Sandor was, but she kind of liked it. 

He held her extra tight once they were safe, sitting her in his lap when they stopped again. Beny, in turn, sat on Sansa's lap and had just finished feeding. He was unperturbed by the tight embrace his ‘parents’ had him involved in. “I thought I was going to lose you again,” Sandor whispered. They had lit a small lantern, one they used only for emergencies, since they were limited in candles for it.

“Beny saved me from that man,” she told him. Her hand was on his chest, and she was trying to comfort Sandor. “He screamed at just the right moment, and I was able to kick him away.”

Sandor kissed the top of her head and then Beny's. “Good boy. Don't let anyone take your mother from you.” Beny gurgled with happiness and grabbed Sandor's finger. 

“He kind of looks like you,” he told her. She supposed he was trying to distract himself and her from the close call they had had. “Same brow and a pert nose.”

She shook her head. “He looks like you. That black hair and those grey eyes. His chin, too. Are you going to grow your hair long, Beny? Are you going to have long hair like your father?” Beny giggled and bopped Sansa on the nose with his fist. 

“Your father and uncle had long hair as well, if I remember correctly.” The sun was coming up and she was exhausted, but she didn't think she could sleep a wink. 

“They did. Not as long as yours.” 

“Joffrey had short hair. So did the knight of flowers.”

“And?” She didn't understand what he was trying to say.

A pause. “Thought you liked short hair.”

Things were making more sense now. She shrugged. “I did, I suppose. Long hair is better on Father and Uncle Benjen. Who you are named after, my Beny,” she cooed at the happy baby. “But I guess it really depends on who it is. I can't really imagine you with short hair, but I can easily see it in the style of the north.”

“So that means…”

“Long hair suits you, but I like seeing your face,” she said, smiling. He looked taken aback and she used the opportunity to kiss his cheek. “I don't think I can sleep. Maybe we should head out already?” He nodded and they set off again. 

**********

“Why'd you name him after your uncle? Why not your father?” he asked her suddenly. They had been traveling all morning in a comfortable silence. She had been getting little sleep in general since Beny got hungry at all hours of the day and night, and had been dozing. 

Beny was asleep in the sling, snoring little baby snores. Another way he was like Sandor, except Sandor's snores were deeper and less of a whistle. “I couldn't. Not after what I did.”

“Little bird?”

She sighed. She was leaning against his arm again, but she needed comfort more than a pillow, so she lifted his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders. 

“It was my fault.”

He stared at her in confusion. 

“The reason Father… He's dead because of  _ me. _ I couldn't name my son after the man I caused the death of.”

“You didn't swing the blade. Ilyn did that. You didn't know Joffrey would go that far.  _ I _ didn't know he'd go that far, and I helped raise that little shit. After the fact, I did suspect he didn’t come to that conclusion on his own though.” He looked over at the baby bulge in the sling. “Not sure I should be helping with this one.”

“You've been a fine father to Beny so far,” she said, trying to encourage him. He just snorted at her. 

“Don't try to change the topic. I still don't see how you killed your father.”

She looked down, focusing on Stranger’s tail. Her eyes burned from holding back tears. Or maybe that was fatigue. “I told Cersei what my father was planning, that he was sending Arya and I away. I warned her.”

“No, you didn't.”

She looked up at him, her tears escaping and running down her cheeks. Couldn't he see? She was a terrible person. She had been selfish and doomed her family to sorrow for the illusion of a handsome prince and a life straight from a song. “I'm certain the words came out of my mouth and into Cersei's ears.”

“I wouldn't doubt that. But your father came to Cersei a few days before you did and told her to get out of town before he told Robert of her infidelity. Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen, they’re not Robert’s trueborn children. Your father, he was too kind hearted, too honorable, to deal with Cersei. He didn't want the children to end up as Rhaegar’s did.  _ He _ warned her and  _ he _ trusted Baelish to back him. Could have told him that was folly, but I doubt he'd have believed me. You, on the other hand, didn't have enough information for her to act upon, and what you told her, she already knew. At the most, you just confirmed it.”

“Wha-- How do you know all this?”

“Lannister dog, remember? Cersei and Joffrey didn’t remember I was around half the time. And...I was in the throne room that day, killed a few of your Stark men defending Joffrey.” She placed her hand on his knee. It wasn’t his fault. He had just been doing his job, it wasn't personal. She mourned the loss of her father’s men, but she couldn’t blame Sandor for it. They would have killed him if given the chance. He seemed to draw comfort from her touch and continued. “My point is, you didn’t kill Eddard Stark. He trusted the wrong people, he went about things in the wrong way. Might have worked in the North, but not in King’s Landing.”

“You said he trusted Lord Baelish? But it was wrong to do so?” That part didn’t sound right. Lord Baelish was Mother’s friend.

Sandor nodded. “The man is only loyal to himself. And his ‘little finger’. Your father believed Janos Slynt was on his side, but he was in Baelish’s pocket. Baelish came at him from behind, held the knife to your father’s throat and made him surrender. I suspect he was the one that gave Joffrey the idea to execute him instead of banishment. He’s always hated your father because he lusts after your mother. I have no doubt that he’ll make an offer to her at the first chance.”

“An offer?” Sansa’s mind raced. “Surely you don’t mean of marriage!”

“I sure don’t mean an offer of employment. Or maybe he would. Everyone in King’s Landing knows how he feels about Lady Catelyn Tully Stark. If he could get her in one of his brothels for himself, he wouldn’t let anything stop him.” He snorted. “Though, from what I’ve heard, your mother would eat him alive.”

“She would?”

“You don’t remember?” He spared her a glance. “She captured the Imp. Kidnapped him and put him on trial in the Vale.”

“Oh, that’s right. I had forgotten about that. Hmm, I suppose she is tough.” She smiled just a little. “I guess that’s where Arya gets it from. Not just the Stark side.”

“You, too. Or else Beny would be less another mother right now. Wouldn’t have a second mother to begin with if you hadn’t stood up to the Hound.” He gave her a squeeze on her arm and kissed her forehead. Her tummy fluttered as she closed her eyes and leaned back on him again. “You going to change his name to Eddard?”

She kept her eyes closed. “No, he likes his name. Maybe my next son will be named Eddard.” 

**********

Sansa slept deeper that night than she had in quite some time. She dreamt of puppies with black fur and blue eyes, and of wolf cubs with red fur and grey eyes. When she woke sometime near the hour of the owl to feed Beny, she tried to remember her dreams, but they were shadows in the night, soon lost the more she sought them out.


	4. Fear Cuts Deeper Than Swords

They stopped at The Inn of the Kneeling Man a little more than a sennight later. It was out of their way, but other travellers spoke of fighting along the road they originally planned to take to Riverrun. Sandor stayed with Beny and the horses, while Sansa secured a room for them. She asked about dinner, and paid extra coin for a hot bath as well. “With the largest tub you have, please,” she told the innkeep. “My husband is a large man.”

“I’ll see what I can do, young lady.” The man smiled kindly at her. He reminded her of Maester Luwin. 

Sandor scoffed when the bath was brought in. “The little bird likes her luxuries.”

“The little bird doesn't want to offend your nose,” she said pointedly. She was playing with Beny and the doll. “I dare not risk it. The nights are cold and I've become used to sleeping next to you. It was difficult when we were separated.”

He mumbled something.

“Pardon?”

He sighed dramatically. “I said, you don't stink.”

“But...at the river…”

He grumbled. “Exaggerated. You don't smell like a bloody rose, but... you don't stink either. I won't deny you your bath, just didn't want you thinking I'd be offended if you hadn't...bathed.” He looked very disgruntled and Sansa giggled. 

“I will keep that in mind,” she said. “I will be bathing now, if you…um...”  _ If he what? Wants to stay and help? _ She felt the tingle, the aching need, return as she thought about him helping her bathe. 

“Alright, alright, I can take a hint.”  _ He can?! _ “I'll be downstairs eating.”  _ Oh… _ “Be back in an hour. I'll bring you dinner.” She watched him with a bit of disappointment as he left. Beny grabbed a lock of her hair, demanding attention. 

“Ow. Beny, don't be mean to mother. We'll take a bath together, alright?” He kicked his legs and gurgled happily. 

**********

Beny was asleep on the bed, in between two pillows so that he didn't roll off. Sansa had bathed him first, then set him on the bed so she could properly wash herself without having to worry about Beny drowning. She had finished and was just about to get out of the tub when Sandor came back in. He threw the toweling cloth at her. She managed to catch it before it hit the water. 

“Apologies, little bird, but some newly arrived guests forced me to leave the dining room earlier than I planned.” He was bolting the door, before going to the shutters and peeking out. Sansa got out of the tub and wrapped the cloth around herself. She found the simple robe she had made from Jenna's clothing and put it on, transferring the cloth to her head. “I did ask for your dinner to be brought up here, so you won't starve.” A knock at the door startled her. “That should be it.” He opened the door again carefully, then let the serving girl in. Sansa picked Beny up, feeling better to have the child in her arms as the stranger entered the room. She stared at Sandor, then at Sansa, then Beny. Sansa ignored her as best she could, but she felt a blush creeping across her cheeks.  _ For goodness sakes, stop blushing! There is nothing wrong with this picture. We are a family, and we're traveling through this area. I mean, we're a family as far as these people are concerned… _ Her heart beat quicker as she considered her thoughts, and then remembering words spoken between herself and Sandor on more than one occasion. When had it become normal to call him Beny's father? When did she start believing it? When did she start wanting it?  _ Do I...do I love him? I thought I just desired him, but if that were the case… No, I couldn't possibly...could I? _

The girl left quickly, for which Sansa was thankful. Sandor bolted the door again and returned to the window. “A group of men arrived just a short while ago. They just came from Harrenhal, newly freed by Roose Bolton. If they learned you were here, they would take you by force, take you to him, maybe to your brother.”

“Even if I don't want to go with them?”  _ Sandor needs to return me, not these men, even if they are Roose Bolton’s. _

He turned to her. “Yes.”

“Can we wait them out?”  _ Can we stay here a few days?  _ She liked the idea. A real bed and actual baths, and sharing it with Sandor… She shook her head, trying to organize her thoughts.  _ I can offer to mend clothing to either earn some coin or get a reduction in the price of our room. _ She wasn’t sure how much they actually had, as Sandor kept the coin purse on his person at all times, but she knew every little bit would help. He had money stored with the Iron Bank, but as they were on the run, he couldn't very well access it.  


He was looking out the window again. “Maybe. Depends on when they leave. Huh…”

“What is it?”

“One of them looks familiar. Might be my imagination. Too far away to be certain.” He turned to her again. “Eat, little bird. I'll keep watching.” 

_ What would I do without him? _ she thought.  _ I have to find a way to keep him with me once… _ She swallowed hard, as the flutter returned to her tummy.  _ Oh Mother, Maiden and Crone... I do love him! _

**********

The candle was burning low by the time Sandor came to bed and blew it out. He had taken a bath after all, and Sansa had only peeked a little bit when he undressed. She had seen his bottom, so unlike hers. Hers was soft and round, while his was muscular and angular. She turned away before she saw any more of him, though part of her kept saying to take a look.  _ He's seen so much of you, yet you've seen so little of him! He wouldn't mind… _ She pulled the blanket over her head to help resist the temptation to look further.

Beny was in a makeshift crib, a basket with straw padding and then a thick blanket over that, placed not far from Sansa's side of the bed. She hadn't been able to get to sleep yet, her mind was reeling a bit from her earlier revelation. 

_ Should I tell him? Would he believe me? He's always so harsh when it comes to the topic of love. All I know is that I don't want to ever lose him. _

He curled around her like he did whenever he was nervous. She had noticed this habit of his, it usually happened after he started to think she would leave him again, either by her own volition or someone else's. It was times like this that she regretted leaving him at the river, even though she would do it all over again if she had to. Sandor, no, the  _ Hound _ would have killed Beny. She knew he wouldn't do it now, of course. He'd sooner hurt her than Beny, but it didn't calm his fears to know the situation had changed. She could only assure him with her actions that she wouldn’t abandon him again.

She wondered if her parents had been like this. Did they cuddle together like she and Sandor did? Did her father hug her mother like this when he was worried? Did her mother enjoy comforting her father in these times? She thought Sandor must have fallen asleep, the only light was the small sliver of moonlight, but he suddenly pushed himself up onto his elbow. “You’re not tired?” he asked.

“I am. I just can’t sleep.”

“Any reason?” He fairly loomed over her, but she wasn’t scared. She hated that she had ever been scared of him, but that was in the past.

“Just thinking.”

“About?” He sounded amused. She wished she could continue to be amusing for him.

“About us.”

She heard his sharp intake of breath. “What about us?”

Her hand found his cheek. “I...I don’t want to lose you again either. You know why I left the first time, but I didn’t  _ want _ to leave you. I was terrified with each step I took further and further away. I did it because I had to, because I believed I had to. I want to stay with you, but I’m scared of when we get to Riverrun… What if they make you leave me?”

“I won't leave you. They’ll have to kill me.”

“You could walk away…” He started to protest. “And you could take me with you. You, me, Beny...we could go back to that little hut and be neighbors to Berra and Meryn, or find some other place, either here in Westeros, or across the Narrow Sea…”

“Keep talking like that and I’ll start to believe you want to be with me,” he said. He sounded sad. She wished there was more light so that he could see how serious she was. She pulled on his arm, and he followed her direction, until she was snug underneath him. He kept his weight off of her, but she was effectively pinned. She was exactly where she wanted to be.

“Is it so bad if I did?”

His thumb stroked her jawline. “Your brother is a king. You’re a princess now. Not for the likes of me. You’ll marry some pretty knight or lord, have his...have his children…”

“Will you kiss me?” she asked before she could stop herself. “Please?”

“Do you really want me to?” His voice was unreadable. She wrapped her arms around his neck, urging him down, unsure of his response. “Well, then…” he said and lowered his face to hers.

**********

Sansa woke with a heavy arm over her waist. There were birds chittering outside, Beny was fussing, crying for his breakfast. “Damn pup doesn’t know when to be quiet,” Sandor muttered into her hair.

“He’s just hungry,” she said. She extracted herself from Sandor’s embrace and picked Beny up. She cooed at him as she changed him, throwing the dirty cloth into a bucket of water. It would make it easier to clean it later. She returned to the bed and pulled down the loose fabric binding her breasts. Beny sucked eagerly.

“Never thought I’d be jealous of a pup,” Sandor said. He was leaning on his elbow, looking over her shoulder and down at Beny. 

“I never thought I would have a son without giving birth,” she said, trying to calm herself from the images Sandor had put into her brain.

“You really want to keep him as yours?” he asked. She nodded. “What will you tell your family?”

“The truth. Or at least a version of it. Mother wouldn’t understand if I told her the  _ whole _ truth. If they don’t believe me...well, I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.”

“You going to tell them how you ‘married’ one of the most notorious warriors in all of Westeros?”

She wanted to. Especially after last night. “Yes,” she whispered. 

“You realize that if you proclaim me your husband for all the world to know, there’ll be no getting rid of me.” His voice trembled, just a bit. 

“Good. I'm certain I can no longer live without you,” she said. “In fact, I want to make it truth. Not just say it as a cover story.”

“You're serious…” He sounded incredulous.  _ Does he still find it so hard to believe? _

“First chance we get,” she said softly, “I want to become your wife. Is that...acceptable?”

He squeezed her around her waist, holding her tightly to him. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck, fast puffs of hot air, and then a warm wetness.  _ He's crying… _

“Sandor…”

“It's acceptable, little bird,” he said, his voice sounding rougher than usual. “It's acceptable.”

**********

“We still need to figure out how to get past those men, unless they’re leaving soon,” Sandor said. They had spent the morning in bed, only getting out to use the privy and change Beny when he soiled himself. Their hunger finally couldn’t be ignored as the sun reached its peak. 

“I’ll go check,” she said, tying her hair back and tucking it under her scarf. 

“Little bird…”

“I’m not as recognizable as you, especially if I hide my hair. It makes more sense and it’s the same reason you had me pay for the room in the first place. Besides, everyone thinks Sansa Stark is dead, and if I take Beny with me, it’ll be less likely for anyone to figure out who I am.” 

“I don’t like this…I won’t be able to protect you if you get caught.”

She reached out and squeezed his hand. “I won’t get caught.”

**********

She kept her head down, her son held firmly in her arms as she approached the innkeeper. “Good day, Jeyne. You’re late to rise,” the innkeeper said. “You and your husband must be famished. We have roast beef and bread baked fresh this morning. It’s cold now, but still good.”

“Yes, please, and we are considering staying another night, if we can. I noticed you have many extra customers today, and I wouldn’t want to put anyone out.”

“Ah, no, don’t worry yourself, dearie. The…” The innkeeper looked around and then leaned in. “These men are Northerners. Mostly Boltons,” he whispered. “I heard them talking. Apparently, a young serving girl helped free them from the previous occupation. I heard one of the men, a Glover, I believe, say that the girl was really a Stark in disguise! Not that it could possibly be true, he was drunk when I heard him. If it were, the girl would be taken straightaway to Riverrun.”

“A Stark? Here?”

The innkeeper looked around again. His voice dropped lower. “I’m sure he was just embellishing his tale, but think of how exciting it would be if it were true! A sibling to the Young Wolf, right near  _ my _ inn!”

“What if he was right?” she said, keeping her voice hushed. 

The innkeeper shook his head. “I highly doubt it. There is no way Roose Bolton would allow a Stark to stay hidden when he could take her to her family.”

“I suppose you’re right…”

**********

“This is a bad idea,” Sandor told her. They had left the inn shortly after Bolton’s men and were currently headed back south to Harrenhal.

“But it could be true!” She had been begging and pleading with Sandor to help her rescue her sister. 

“And it might just be that the Glover cunt really was making it up,” he pointed out. “Or just so drunk that he believed it.”

“I would feel better knowing, one way or another.”

He sighed. They were coming up on the point where they would have to turn for Riverrun or continue to Harrenhal. “Are you going to leave me again if I say no?”

She shook her head. “Never again, I swear it. If you say no, then that is that.”

**********

Several days later, mid-morning, Sandor found a good spot to hide the cart. “You’re not coming with me,” he told her flat out. He was changing his clothes to better blend in with the residents of the castle. His bare skin was only half distracting, and his words sunk in.

“But she’s my sister!”

“And you have Beny to take care of. Like it or not, he is a liability in this situation. I’ll go get your sister, but you need to stay here. If I’m not back by...let’s say by tomorrow night, head to Acorn Hall. Keep the setting sun to your back, and you should get there. Stranger will follow your commands.”

“She won’t go with you. She doesn’t  _ like _ you and she won’t trust you. She only knows you as ‘Joffrey’s dog’. She won’t know that you abandoned him and are with me now.”

“I’ll figure it out.”

Sansa closed her eyes and sighed. “Arya Horseface.”

“What?”

She groaned, embarrassed by her foolishness in childhood. “That’s what Jeyne and I used to call her. I haven’t called her that in a while, mostly because Mother said it was unladylike, but if you tell her I told it to you, maybe... _ maybe _ she’ll be more amiable to coming with you. She was also called Arya Underfoot, but you could have easily learned that since King Robert went to Winterfell.”

He kissed her fully on the mouth, his tongue tangling with hers, curling her toes. “Wait for me, little bird. I’ll bring you back your sister.”

She closed her eyes and nodded. She heard him walk away into the woods. “Mother, Father, Maiden, Crone, Warrior, Smith...Stranger...the new gods and the old, protect him and watch over him. Return him and Arya to me, safe and sound,” she prayed. All she could hear was a gentle rustling of leaves.

**********

It was one of the worst days of her life. Sandor had yet to return, and there was only about three hours left before sunset. She reasoned that she wouldn’t be able to make to Acorn Hall in the dark, so if he wasn’t back by the time she woke up,  _ then _ she would go to Acorn Hall. 

Beny had been fussy since the day before. She did her best to calm him, but she felt the same. “You want your father back, don’t you, sweet one?” she asked Beny as she changed his soiled diaper for a fresh one. She would have to go down to the small pond nearby to wash it. He sniffled, thrashing his little arms about, wailing just a little. “I know, Beny. I miss him too. But he will be back, and he will bring your Aunt Arya, and then we will go to Riverrun. You’ll be able to meet your Uncle Robb, and your grandmother.” She paused, her eyes gliding up to a small flock of birds in the sky. “I hope they can accept us, accept our little family. Mother will not be pleased,” she looked back down at her son. “But I’m bringing the most beautiful baby boy to her as her grandson,” she said in a singsong voice. “How could anyone not want to love this little face?” Beny smiled his little baby half-smile. 

“Better question, how could anyone love that face at all. He looks like the Hound.”

Sansa whirled around to find a young boyish girl peering down at Beny. “Arya!” She nearly strangled her sister in a hug. “It’s you, it’s really you!” Arya smelled awful, but that didn’t stop Sansa from nuzzling her. “I thought I’d never see you again,” she whispered. 

Tentative arms wrapped around her waist as Arya returned the hug. “Yeah...well...you were wrong. Like always.” Sansa made a face at Arya, but her sister only laughed. She turned to find Sandor standing with two others. The first was a young man, black hair and blue eyes. He looked familiar, but she didn’t believe she had ever seen him before. Another young man, portly and glancing at Sandor with fear in his eyes, stood beside him.

“Who’s this?” she asked, trying to keep the nervousness out of her voice.

“That’s Gendry.” She pointed at the blue eyed man. “He’s helped me out since I left King’s Landing,” Arya said, squeezing Sansa’s arm in comfort. “ And the other one is Hot Pie. They’re my friends. You can trust them.” Sansa wasn’t sure about that, but she nodded. “So who’s this little tyke?”

“He’s...His name is Benjen. He’s my son.”

Arya’s head snapped to her. “And his father?”

“That would be me,” Sandor said, putting his arm around Sansa’s shoulders. 

Arya’s eyes narrowed at the two of them. “You’re putting me on…there’s no way  _ you,” _ she pointed at Sandor, “got her pregnant, escaped from King’s Landing, and got to this point, with a child that is...what? Four or five months old? You,” she jabbed Sandor in the belly, “said you only left about two months ago. She would have had to have given birth to him while you were still in the capital, while you were still in Joffrey’s custody.”

Sandor chuckled. “What makes you think she didn’t? Joffrey could have found out, married her to me as punishment.”

“He’s not so kind as that,” Arya countered. Gendry stifled a chuckle, though Hot Pie still looked nervous.

“Fine,” Sansa said, picking Beny up. “We found him. His mother had been brutalized by some men. I decided to keep him. We’ve been trying to be parents to him ever since.” She deliberately left out the part where the Hound had disagreed with her at first. “He’s my son now, even if I didn’t give birth to him. Sandor...Sandor is my husband now as well.” A small fib, and the sooner her family got used to the idea, the better.

Arya stared at Sansa. “No, he’s not, but you want it to be true. Mother’s going to be upset, about the baby, about  _ him.” _ She glared at Sandor, who glared right back. Clearly, they were at odds with each other, but had called a temporary truce for the time being.

“Hopefully she’ll overlook it, considering I’m returning from the dead, and he is the one who is delivering me from it,” Sansa said, praying that it would be true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Working on the final chapter so switching to daily posts. Weekends, too? Eh, sure, why not.


	5. Sisters, You Can't Murder Them

When they stopped to eat the evening meal, Sansa and Arya talked, mostly catching each other up on what had happened since that fateful day in King’s Landing. Sandor and Gendry were taking care of the horses and were not in earshot at the moment.

“Yoren cut all my hair, started calling me Arry, and snuck me out of there with boys and men destined to take the Black. Gendry looked out for me since the first day. Hot Pie and another boy, Lommy, were picking on me, but I straightened them out quick enough.”

“She called me a fat boy and told me she liked killing fat boys,” Hot Pie said, stirring the pot they had set over the fire. Between her and Hot Pie’s cooking, and Sandor, Arya and Gendry’s hunting, their meals had improved immensely. 

“Arya!”

“Well, I did. But really it was boys who tried to turn me over to Cersei. Since then…” Arya got quiet. “It’s not just boys.”

“Arya…” Sansa said in hushed tones. “You really killed someone? More than one person?” She nodded. “Oh, Arya…”

“I’m not sorry I did it. It was me or them,” she said, her defenses up.

“No, it’s not that...I just…” Sansa choose her words carefully. “I wish that you didn’t have to do that, that you could have been spared knowing what it like to take someone’s life.”

“Oh…”

“How did you get out anyway?” Sansa asked, eager to change the subject and she had been curious about it.

“Jaqen H’gar. He said he was a Faceless Man. Your  _ husband,” _ she said it like it was a curse, “found me easily enough. He’s surprisingly sneaky for a man of his stature. He said you were nearby, and at first I thought he was just trying to trick me. Then he called me ‘Horseface.’ Just about killed him, then realized you were the only one who could have told him that. Well, you or Jeyne, but I figured I could trust him for the moment. I told him I could get out, but I had to take two of my friends with me. Thought he was going to bust a vein in his head. Finally, he said that if I could get them out, then they were welcome to join us. Joke’s on him, I figured out how to do it. Jaqen took care of some of the guards, I took care of the last one and we were able to walk out of there in the dead of the night. Would have joined you sooner, but we needed rest and had to stop to sleep a bit. What about you? He said you escaped during a riot?”

Sansa nodded. “Myrcella was sent to Dorne. We were at the harbor, seeing her off. The war has been hard on the smallfolk of the city, food had become scarce. Someone threw a...well, a  _ cowpie _ at Joffrey. Hit him right in the face. It was actually quite funny, until he started screaming to kill all of them. That’s what sparked it. I got separated from the royal party. Some men…” She closed her eyes. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but when she thought about it, it was suddenly just yesterday. “Some men chased me into a building. I tried to slap one, but he just found it funny. They pushed me down, ripping my gown… They were...they were going to…” She couldn’t say it, but Arya reached for her hand and squeezed it. “If the Hound hadn’t been there...who knows what would have happened to me. He killed them. He killed them all like they were rats. Then he offered to take me from there, take me home, take me to my family. We disappeared into the chaos, presumed dead like so many others. He swore he would protect me, that no one would ever hurt me again.”

“You believed him.”

Sansa smiled and looked over at Sandor, who was arguing with Gendry about how to brush a horse’s mane. “I did. I still do. He’s kept his word.”

“Why was he even there to begin with? He’s...or he  _ was _ Joffrey’s personal guard. Shouldn’t he have been with him?”

Sansa shrugged. “You would have to ask him that.”

**********

They were less than a sennight away from Riverrun. Sansa and Sandor continued to sleep in the cart with Beny at night, while Arya, Gendry and Hot Pie shared it during the day. It was a bit of a tight squeeze for them, since Hot Pie was the one taking up the majority of the space, but Arya said he was much skinnier than when they first started out. Sansa found that hard to believe, but didn’t question it.

Beny was starting to sleep for longer intervals at night, for which Sansa was grateful for. Sandor was grateful for it as well, since he would spend a good amount of that time kissing her and thrilling her with his touch. Not that they did anything else. She wanted to, but besides the fact that her  _ sister _ was there and would hear  _ everything, _ she also had Beny to consider and the fact that the cart wasn't the best place to have their first time. Sandor said he would feel better if they waited until they were actually married to consummate it, but Sansa suspected he was really holding off in case she changed her mind. She wouldn't, of course, but no amount of words would convince him otherwise, so she put her emotions and convictions into their kisses. 

In addition to that, she was nervous about feeding Beny in front of Gendry and Hot Pie, but since they slept most of the day, it didn’t really come up. 

“I know I said I wanted to make our story true before we saw my family,” she told Sandor two days before they reached their destination, “But I don’t see how it’s possible. The only sept we’ve been close to was the one at Harrenhal, and then the Stoney Sept, which has been abandoned since the Rebellion.”

Beny was playing with the doll, throwing it this way and that. Sansa had wised up and tied a string to it so that if he did throw it out of the cart, she could easily retrieve it by reeling it back in. Sandor chuckled as Beny threw it with all his baby might at Pallas, though the string made it stop short before it actually hit her. “There’s always the godswood. You follow the old gods and the new.”

Her mind raced through all the locations she could remember that had a godswood. King’s Landing was out. So was Harrenhal. “The closest one is at Riverrun,” she said miserably. 

“Then we’ll go there before we go see your brother and mother,” Sandor said. “We just won’t tell them  _ when _ we married.”

“Oh. I suppose that would work.” She reeled in the doll again after Beny chucked it to the side. “Look, there’s someone on the road ahead of us.”

An older man, nearly as tall as Sandor from the looks of it, was walking alongside a donkey pulled cart, laden with food and other items. A huge, shaggy dog was trotting along with him. “Hello!” the man called out to them.

“Hello,” Sansa said cheerfully, as the cart was slowed to a stop. Sandor kept his head down and didn’t say anything. The shaggy dog jumped around excitedly, putting his paws on the steps of the cart and sniffing at them. Sandor stared at the dog and then reached down to scratch behind his ears. Beny clapped his hands and shrieked with joy when the dog jumped up near him.

“Well, Dog seems to like you well enough. Are you headed towards Riverrun?”

“Yes, we’re on our way to see my family. My name is Jeyne. This is my husband, Jory.” Sandor inclined his head just a bit. “And you?”

“My name is Meribald. I’m headed to the area. Mostly stay away from the castles, since they have their own septons. I spread the word of the Seven to the villages too poor to have even a sept.”

“Oh! You’re...a septon?”

He nodded. “You folks in need of one?”

Sansa looked at Sandor. He shrugged, leaving the decision up to her. She turned back to Meribald. “We are, actually. As I said, we are husband and wife, but we haven’t had a formal ceremony. Would you...would you be able to marry us in the eyes of the Seven?”

Meribald’s eyebrows went up, but he said, “Of course. I would be most delighted to. Is it just the two of you and the babe then?”

“Oh, no, my...my brother and his two friends are asleep in the back of the cart. Let me wake them.”

“I’ll get them,” Sandor said. “You’ve got your hands full with the little one.”

Soon, a sleepy Arya, Gendry and Hot Pie were standing with them. Hot Pie was holding Beny, as Sansa held Sandor’s hands, with Meribald standing in front of them. Dog had decided to sit next to Arya, and it looked like he was standing up for Sandor, which Arya found immensely funny. “A dog for a dog,” she snickered, though Gendry elbowed her and told her to quit it.

“Now, please state your names so that I can send this to the registry in Old Town,” Meribald said. 

Sansa turned red, but said in a clear voice, “Sansa Stark.” 

Meribald looked at her in confusion, and then at Sandor. He nodded solemnly. “Against your family’s wishes then? I was never one to stand in the way of love,” he said with a grin. “And you?”

“Sandor Clegane.” The name registered no recognition with Meribald, and Sansa breathed a little bit easier.

“Very well, let us begin…”

They stood off to the side of the road, the ceremony taking quite a bit of time, but Sansa didn’t mind. When they were declared husband and wife, Sandor gave her the sweetest kiss she could possibly imagine. 

**********

“We can say our vows in the godswood as well,” he told her when they were on their way again. Meribald was keeping pace with them, chatting with Arya and Hot Pie. “If you want.”

She smiled at him. “I would like that very much.” Beny had fallen asleep after the ceremony and was snug in his little basket crib. 

“How far are we from Riverrun?” Gendry asked, leaning on the back of their seat. 

“About two days,” Sandor said. “Less if we skip stopping for lunch.”

“We could have the dried meat for lunch instead, wouldn't require us to stop,” Sansa suggested. 

“I don't want to have dried meat!” Arya complained. “I can’t eat dried meat without milk. We don't  _ have _ any milk, except for what's coming out of Sansa, and I'm not drinking that.”

“Arry!” Sansa hissed, putting her arms up over her chest in protection. She had missed her sister dearly, but oh, how she wanted to murder her right now!

Sandor guffawed, earning him a dark look from Sansa, but that only amused him further. 

“Now, now, children,” Meribald said.

**********

“So…”

Sansa looked over at Arya, taking her attention from the “wedding gift” Gendry had given her, a dagger he had made while still at Harrenhal. It was of fine quality, from what Sandor said, and could prove useful should she ever need to defend herself. The men were around, Sandor gathering firewood, Gendry collecting water, and Hot Pie walking Beny around their campsite. For the moment, it was just Sansa and Arya sitting around the fire. It had been three against two in the argument to have it that first night, and truthfully, Sansa felt better having it since her sister and her friends were around to enjoy it as well as keep watch. They had stopped for their evening meal, and according to Meribald, whom they had parted with at the last fork in the road, they would reach Riverrun by the next day. Sandor’s estimation had been a bit over the actual time it would take. “Yes?”

“So does this mean you’re going to rut in the forest now with the Hound?”

“Ar-! ARYA!!!” She must have turned the color of her hair in her embarrassment. Burying her face in her lap, she muttered, “Gods give me strength.” Arya was cackling, delighted in her sister’s reaction.

“I’m just asking, since, you know, this is your wedding night. Do you need me, Gendry and Hot Pie to cover our ears, pretend we don’t hear the grunts and groans that are bound to come from your husband as he takes your maidenhead and enjoys your youthful flesh?” 

“Arya, this is extremely inappropriate…” she said, her voice feeble and wishing her sister would just stop.

“I would say it’s extremely  _ important. _ Mother’s not here to have  _ the talk _ with you on your wedding night.” Arya was taking too much amusement from this, her eyes sparkling with glee in the firelight. “I bet he has a big one, too. I’ve seen a few, and it tends to be that the bigger the man, the bigger the cock. I mean, it’s not always true, but it probably is in his case. Might split you in half with it,” she said, feigning serious consideration. “Do you think he’ll take you like the hunting dogs took their bitches in heat? From behind?”

Images of Sandor and her in various positions were running through her mind, making her face heat up for a different reason. She squeezed her thighs together, wishing they had found a septon when they were still at the inn, so they could at least have a bed, but the more Arya teased her, the more she wanted to go find her husband and tell him to take her against a rock or a tree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have "Downtown" by Macklemore and Ryan Lewis stuck in my head right now... *dances*


	6. Reunion of Three Starks and A Mother

Getting into the castle was relatively easy. They looked like a family of peasants trying to escape the war. Robb wasn’t there, neither was Catelyn apparently, and they were forced to be patient. On their first day, Arya took care of Beny while Sandor and Sansa went to the godswood to say their vows. Again, Sansa wanted to ask him to take her right then and there. She was sure that the old gods wouldn't mind, but some of the Riverrun soldiers came in. They left the men behind to rejoin the others. They hadn't had any time alone, being in a cart with her sister and her sister’s friends, and Sandor wanted to wait until they were guaranteed privacy. Something about how he'd end up murdering someone if he was interrupted. She understood completely. He also mentioned something about that she deserved better than a rut in the woods for her first time. She decided not to mention her thoughts to him on that, but maybe he could be convinced about it in the future? Somehow, she managed to convince Arya to watch over Beny again, which delighted Hot Pie, and Sandor rented two rooms for the six of them, one on each side of the inn outside of the castle. Arya, Gendry, Hot Pie and Beny stayed in one, with Sandor and Sansa in the other. It was only for a sennight, and they moved into a small temporary housing area provided to refugees of the war to wait for Robb and Catelyn’s return.

While they waited, they all took jobs in the keep, except for Sandor, who was too noticeable. He worked outside of the castle with a farmer, hauling heavy loads and being the man’s work horse. Sandor didn’t mind it so much, said it was a good substitute for fighting. Sansa and Hot Pie worked in the kitchens, where Sansa was allowed to keep Beny with her in a little basket seat on her back. Gendry had designed it for her, and she had woven scrap cloth together to create it. Gendry worked with the blacksmith and Arya worked as his assistant, running all over to deliver metalwork to customers. For two months, they lived like this. She and Sandor would sneak time together, but it was never enough and too few in between. She wasn’t sure if she should be happy or sad when her moonblood returned during that time. On the one hand, they were living a difficult life that would change as soon as Robb returned to the castle. On the other, she wanted to give Sandor more children, to solidify their family just a little more.

They heard of Edmure’s return, but neither girl had ever met Edmure and decided against speaking with him. Finally, they heard the news, King Robb had returned, and it turned out Lady Catelyn had been there for some time, tending to her ill father even before their arrival. A downside of being in hiding, she supposed, the important news wouldn’t reach them unless it was truly remarkable. Lady Catelyn making herself a prisoner in her childhood home so that her father wouldn’t be alone so close to death didn’t register with the smallfolk.

Getting to Robb was significantly harder than they expected, especially since they didn't want to reveal who they were to anyone besides Robb or their mother. Arya wanted to simply sneak into his chambers, but he was guarded better than Joffrey ever was. They went with the simplest route: constantly petitioning to see him.

**********

They were finally in front of him, minus Hot Pie, who decided to stay in the kitchens. He looked just as she remembered him.

“Robb…” she said. It was him, it was _really_ him. “It's really you…”

He stared at her, but she could see his eyes widen as he realized. “San...sa? Sansa!” She was soon swept up in a fierce hug.

“How about me? Not like I haven't been through the ringer,” Arya said. She looked annoyed, but Sansa knew she was just teasing.

“Arya!” He pulled her into the hug as well.

He ran out into the hallway, then came back in a few moments later, hugging them once more. “Oh gods, how? How is this possible?” he asked her. “We received word that you died in a riot!”

Sansa shook her head. “I left the capital during that riot, the day Princess Myrcella was sent to Dorne. Many people were lost or killed, they just assumed I was one of them. I've been traveling since then, trying to get back to you. Had a few adventures. And Arya was never caught by Joffrey or Cersei after...after Father…” She bit her lip, still deeply ashamed of what happened on the steps of Baelor’s Sept, even if she truly had no blame for the events. Robb was hugging her again.

“I lived as a street urchin when they captured Father,” Arya said quietly. “I escaped with the help of the Night’s Watch, the day they chopped off Father's head. I owe a debt to them, one I plan to repay. I also had a few adventures.” Arya had told her more about her time with Gendry and Hot Pie. Sansa mourned the loss of her little sister’s innocence. She might still be a maiden, but that piece of her soul was gone.

A cry cut through the somber atmosphere. Sansa wiped her eyes, smiled nervously at Robb and retrieved Beny from Sandor, whose hood was still hiding his face. She pulled back the blanket covering Beny’s face and cooed at her baby boy. “There, there, sweet one. Mama’s got you. Are you hungry?” she whispered to him.

“Sansa…”

“Yes?” she asked. Beny was fascinated with a lock of auburn hair that had come loose from her scarf.

_“Who's baby is that?!”_

She looked up at him in surprise. How could she have forgotten! “Forgive me, Robb. May I introduce Sandor Clegane, my husband.” Sandor had pulled off his hood to reveal his face.

_“Husband?!”_

“Yes, and this,” she held up Beny, her heart beating rapidly in her chest, hoping against hope that Robb didn’t do the math as well as Arya had, “is our son.”

Grey Wind moved quickly to catch Robb before he hit his head on the stone floor.

“Oh dear,” Sansa said, holding Beny to her chest.

“‘Oh dear’ is right,” Arya said. “Did our big brother just _faint_ at the sight of Clegane’s offspring?”

Sansa glared at Arya, but the younger Stark just laughed. Sandor knelt to Robb’s side, checking on the unconscious young man. Grey Wind was sitting at Robb’s head, pawing at his hair. A knock on the door startled them.

“Gendry, can you get the door please?” Sansa asked.

Catelyn Stark swept into the room, her head held high, her back straight. She took one look at Sandor bent over Robb and flew at Sandor, her nails ready to claw his eyes out. The guards at the door pushed past Gendry, swords drawn. Both were incredibly tall, one even exceeding the height of Sandor, who instinctively reached to his hip, only to find nothing there. He had left his sword in the cart, which was parked near the stables, which was on the other side of the castle. Sansa heard him swear, but it was Arya and Grey Wind who came to his rescue. Arya had been hiding her sword, only the gods knew where, and between her and the direwolf, the guards stopped short. Catelyn didn’t, but Grey Wind forcibly stopped her.

“Get away from my son!” she screamed.

“Lady Stark…” Sandor started.

“I said _get away!!”_ she shrieked. Grey Wind pushed at her stomach with his large head. Sandor took a few steps back.

“He fain-- He passed out. I was just checking on him, making sure he didn’t hurt himself in the fall. That’s all.” Sandor was holding his hands up in peace, but Sansa could see that he was seething underneath. Not that she could blame him. Her mother had rushed right past her, nearly knocking Beny from her arms. Catelyn was seeing what she wanted to see, and not what was happening.

“A likely story, _Hound,”_ Catelyn spat at him. “Grey Wind, move!”

“Mother,” Sansa said, her mask in place as her mother whirled around to face her.

“Sansa? _Sansa!”_ She rushed to her in happiness, but Sansa turned, protecting Beny from accidently being crushed. Catelyn looked at her in confusion. “Sansa?”

“Forgive me, Mother, but you took no notice of Beny. His safety is my first concern. My second is that you know Robb is in no danger. Sandor was trying to help him, as he said.”

“Sandor? Who…” She looked over at the scarred man. “Him? He’s a Lannister man! You cannot trust him!”

“No! He is a Stark man now! I trust him with my life, with Beny’s life!” Sansa hissed.

Catelyn stepped back in confusion. “Who is Beny? Where did this child come from?”

Sansa had been nervous before, but introducing her little family to her mother nearly induced a panic attack. She walked around her unconscious brother carefully to stand next to Sandor. His hand went to the small of her back. Arya had stuck her sword in her belt, moving closer to their mother, and the two guards had lowered their weapons as well. The atmosphere was not as charged as before, but there was still a thick tension in the air.

“Mother,” Sansa started, her voice trembling ever so slightly. “Sandor is my...my husband. We married in the sept and in the godswood… He rescued me from King’s Landing during the riot. This is our son, Benjen Clegane Stark. We call him Beny.” All true statements, but she said them out of order, to give her mother the impression that it happened differently. It had been Arya's idea.

Two things happened. The two guards quickly backed out of the room to give them privacy, and then Catelyn fainted next to her son. Thankfully, Arya caught her.

**********

“You really have a way with words, Sansa,” Arya said, adjusting the pillow under their mother’s head and then Robb’s.

“Alright, look, it’s not my fault neither of them could handle the truth.” Sansa was sitting at the window, watching the guards and the people down below. Gendry had gone to find the maester with one of the guards, leaving the second guard, a woman named Brienne, with Sansa, Sandor and Arya to watch over Catelyn and Robb. She stood silently next to the closed door. Beny had begun to cry for his lunch, so Sansa took the opportunity to feed him. He was getting so big, Sansa estimated he was about six and a half months old now, maybe seven. She had no idea when his name day would be, so she had decided it would be on the Warrior’s Feast Day, as it was the closest feast day to around the time he would have been born. _You’ll have a lot to live up to, but I’m sure your father will be there to help._

“Wh--what happened?” Robb muttered. He looked up at Arya, then bolted upright, looking up and finding Sansa with Beny at her breast. “Oh gods be merciful, it wasn’t a nightmare.”

“Damned straight it’s not a nightmare,” Sandor snorted. “You’re lucky we’re kin now, otherwise I’d knock you in the head for insulting my wife and child like that.”

“Ugh…” Robb fell back against the pillow. “This is not going to go over well.” Grey Wind playfully snapped his jaws at Robb, almost like he was laughing. He turned to his mother, who was still unconscious. “Well, at least I didn’t have to tell her. I assume that’s why she’s like this.”

“She took the news exactly the same as you,” Arya told him. “Fainted dead away.”

“I am the King in the North,” Robb protested. “I do not _faint.”_

“Except, you did,” Arya laughed. “Like a swooning maiden. So suck it up like a man.”

“What do you mean, ‘this is not going to go over well’?” Sansa asked. Beny was finished with his meal and his eyes were beginning to droop.

Robb sat back up, folding his legs underneath him as Grey Wind padded up to Sansa to sniff the tiny human. One chomp and Grey Wind could easily eat her son, but the direwolf nosed at him instead, curious about Beny.

“I…” Robb sighed. “Like it or not, you are a princess now, as is Arya. Your hand in marriage can secure more troops for our army. Could have made peace with Walder Frey.”

Sansa glared at him. “I am _not_ a bargaining piece for your war, Robb.”

Robb glanced at Sandor, who was eyeing Robb carefully. Robb licked his lips, preparing what he was about to say. “You need only set aside your vows… The child could still take his father’s name, just not his mother’s. Clegane could take him back to his family home, or we can give him a small estate in the North.”

“You are out of your mind,” Sansa spat at him. “You would ask me to forsake the holy vow said not only in front of the Seven, but in front of the Old Gods?! Set aside the man I love and my child just so you can gain more men?!”

“I could have him executed instead,” Robb said, venom in his voice as he stared at Sandor. “Many a man would still marry you as a widow.”

“I would take my dagger to the marriage bed, let my _new husband_ feel my prick through his heart,” she swore. “And any other man who dares try to claim me for his own.”

“Yet you let the _Hound,_ a Lannister man, have a claim over you?!” Robb said, getting to his feet. “Can’t you see this is just some plot by them--”

“I no longer serve the Lannisters. They think me dead in the riot, just like your sister, and when they do find out I’m still alive and with you lot, they will likely put a bounty on my head. Besides, I have no claim to your sister. She is the one who has a claim to me. She is the one who holds my leash now, and the one I answer to, no other.” Sandor somehow managed to look deadly even when relaxed. A glance over at Arya showed that her sister had the same look.

“If you hurt our goodbrother, Robb, the gods will only bring down suffering on your head. You already broke your vow to Lord Frey, now you want to violate the holy vow of your own sister’s marriage.” Robb winced. Sansa was shocked. She had heard of the treaty, but not that it had already been broken. “Oh, yes, I heard about that. It’s how I learned you were back at the castle. Even saw your wife, Queen Jeyne. I would like to point out Sansa’s twice married, in front of both the old gods and the new. What will become of this family when neither Clegane nor I are here to help?”

“You choose the Hound over your own brother?” Robb asked. “Both of you?”

“I choose _our family,_ Robb, which includes Sansa and now the Hound. I choose to respect the decisions she made, whether I like them or not. Same as I do yours. If you choose to not respect those decisions, then I will do everything I can to make sure you can’t do anything to them. Besides, you thought she was Joffrey’s betrothed, then his prisoner, and then that she was dead. You couldn’t possibly have promised her to anyone. Me, on the other hand, well, I have some choice words about who you chose for me. Took some figuring out, but I believe I met my betrothed already, and I can promise you, he will be dead before I ever even stand before an altar.”

“Once the lords have learned of her survival…”

“Which wouldn't have happened without Sandor,” Sansa interjected.

“For that I am eternally grateful, but once they find out you are alive, they will be vying for your hand, especially Lord Frey.” Robb sighed heavily. “Nothing less than royalty will do for him.”

“Well, I'm sure his daughters would be just as willing to marry a widower king,” Sandor said wryly. Robb glared at him. “It was your idea, _your grace.”_

“One that will not be entertained, Hound,” a voice said from the floor. Catelyn Stark rose with grace from where she lay. “For either of you. As disappointed as I am about this, Arya is right. We cannot separate what the gods have brought together.”

Arya hugged their mother and helped her up from the floor. Sansa bit her lip, saddened by her mother's talk of disappointment. Sandor could be an asset to the Starks, if they would have him. Why couldn't they see that?

“You will join our army, and both Sansa and your son will be sent to Winterfell as soon as possible. If the gods truly bless this union, then you will make it back to them.”

“Mother!”

“I'll join your damn army, but she and the pup stay at Riverrun with Queen Jeyne and the wolf girl.”

“Sandor!”

“Hmpf. Fine. Your conditions are acceptable, though I believe Sansa would be safer in Winterfell, once it is rebuilt, and there is no need for her to remain here,” Catelyn said, ignoring Sansa's outbursts. “Arya needs to stay, however.”

 _To be sold to the Freys she means,_ Sansa thought bitterly. Arya looked like she was ready to murder someone, but she thankfully refrained.

“Wait, what do you mean, rebuilt?” Arya asked.

Catelyn’s mouth pinched into a frown. “Theon betrayed us. He was sent to his father, to request his aid in our cause. Instead he took some Ironborn to capture Winterfell. Your brothers…” Catelyn lowered her head. “He killed them. Burned their bodies. The bastard of Bolton took it back for us, but...Winterfell was burned down. We only received the news recently.”

A knock at the door startled them and the maester entered the room, Gendry and the other guard right behind him. Brienne and the second guard, who turned out to be Lord Greatjon Umber, stayed in the hallway, though not until the Greatjon had checked on Catelyn briefly.

Sandor rubbed her shoulders as her mother and brother were both checked by the maester. Her brothers were dead? The idea didn't sit right with her, but Mother had said it was true. Sansa looked over at Arya, who shook her head. She was thinking the same thing. _No, they’re not dead._ She felt it, in her very bones, they were still alive. She had no proof, of course, and didn't say anything.

“There’s been some other news...not long after we heard of your death, we heard that Arya had been found and was to wed Tyrion Lannister.”

“What.” Arya raised an eyebrow to this. "No. Very obviously no, that did not happen."

Robb nodded. “We found it suspicious and suspected that this person was an imposter, but unless we could get to the capital, we couldn’t prove it. The letter we received from this ‘Arya’ increased our suspicions. She sounded more like how Sansa spoke.”

“The wedding happened almost two months after I heard of your death,” Catelyn said, touching her finger to her chin, “Let’s see, I suppose it would have been a few days before that battle on the bay.”

“What battle?” Sandor asked. That lead to a discussion on what had happened in King’s Landing since Sandor had last picked up news on the road. Stannis had attacked King’s Landing, but was pushed back by first the wildfire and then the Tyrell forces backing the city’s military. Tywin Lannister had swept in to flank any of Stannis’ army that was on the beach. Sansa shuddered from the description of the Blackwater Bay on fire. Green fire, no less. It sounded horrible. She was glad she and Sandor had left long before the battle happened.

“Clegane, you’ll join the company I command directly,” Robb said, once the maester had left. He looked very tired. “I need to finish these letters now, then go see to the Frey envoy that just arrived today. We can continue this discussion later.”

“It will be alright, little bird,” Sandor whispered in her ear when she began to protest. “If there's one thing I excel at in this world, it's killing. I'll kill the entire Lannister, Tyrell, and Baratheon forces just to get back to you.”

“If you die in the field, I will kill you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “So you better come back.”

He laughed at that, drawing the stares of Catelyn and Robb. “I'll be with you until the day we march out.” His voice was still a low rumble in her ear, so that her family wouldn't be privy to his words. “Maybe I'll manage to put a pup in you before I go, so that Beny can have a playmate.”

She was sure her face turned a horrible red color, but hoped it was a delicate blush instead. “I... I would like that. Very much,” she told him in an equally low voice so that her mother and brother wouldn't hear, a shy smile on her face. She ignored her mother's gasp as she leaned in to kiss Sandor.


	7. Red Wedding

Robb waited to leave Riverrun until Grandfather Hoster passed on, a measly thirteen days. Sansa regretted not finding their own housing while they waited for Robb to return, but they really hadn’t expected him to take so long! They thought the communal housing would be their home for no more than a sennight or two. She was grateful when Sandor told Robb to go bugger himself when he suggested separate bedchambers. “If you think I’ll be sleeping apart from my wife, you’re madder than Aerys was.”

The Frey envoy that had arrived demanded that someone be sent to the Twins to be married at once. Arya was furious when she was told it would be her. Sansa had tried to fight their mother and brother on this, but Arya told her not to worry, she had a plan. Sansa only hoped the plan didn't involve skewering Arya's Frey husband on a pike.

Her heart was pained as she kissed Sandor goodbye in the yard of Riverrun, pointedly ignoring all the awkward coughing from the people around them. Even the fact that she had given him a token could not calm her apprehension as she stood with Queen Jeyne and Lady Westerling, watching the army marched out towards the Twins and delivering Arya as a sacrificial lamb.

**********

She took Beny to the godswood and the sept daily, carrying him in the little cloth basket on her back, to pray for her family. She prayed for Sandor's safety, and also for his seed to quicken in her womb.

She walked around Riverrun in a fog more often than not. Brienne of Tarth had stayed behind, acting as her shield in Sandor's absence, when she wasn't guarding Jaime Lannister in his cell. The Greatjon was taking Brienne’s place as Catelyn’s shield, so Sansa wasn't worried about depriving her mother of her safety. Brienne was shy, but Sansa enjoyed her company immensely. She provided a welcome distraction. So did Jaime Lannister, since she would sometimes sit with Brienne while on her guard duty and embroider. She liked listening to them bicker.

She was dearly missing her husband, his dark humor, his comforting presence, his warmth, and most especially having him in her bed.

Their first time together had been...not what she expected. Not terrible, just not that great either. Pleasant. That was a good word for it. The second time had been better. The third time had even better results. Each time, they learned a little more and applied it to the next. Sandor had been frustrated at first, wanting to please her and failing, especially when there was going to be a lack of privacy for days on end after they left the inn and moved into the communal living quarters. Sansa had been the one to preach patience and to keep at it. She had faith they would get it, and she had been delighted to be proven right.

Her mother and brother, not so much. She had spent nearly a whole day with them blushing as red a tomato when she realized they had heard her and Sandor their first night sleeping in the castle. She had been very hungry for her husband and had thrown her modesty to the wind. Sandor hadn't cared and walked around proud as a peacock that day. She wanted to punch him for that.

_I miss him so much._

She was comforted by the fact that he was right, he was a killer, he was good at it, and he would kill to return to her side. She marveled at the fact that she didn't mind the harsh realities about him as much as she once had. He was honest above all else, and she appreciated that most of all. He was also a survivor, another fact that kept her fears at bay.

Jeyne proved to be an enchanting girl, easy to talk to, but her mother was always around, her presence a reminder that Sansa should guard her words. There was something about the woman that Sansa did not trust. She suspected that she had convinced Jeyne to throw herself at Robb, causing the rift between the Starks and the Freys.

It was a little more than two months later, she was walking the wall with Brienne when she heard the horn announcing the return of the army. Curious, since the army was supposed to return to battle after the wedding. She and Brienne made their way to the main gates. Uncle Edmure and her mother were leading the way, followed by Sandor and Robb, who was slumped behind him, leaning on his goodbrother’s back for support. “Brienne, take Beny to the nursery, please,” Sansa said.

Beny was half in love with Brienne, screaming gleefully when she took him in her arms and was trying to grab her lip. “Bren! Bren! Bren!” He couldn’t quite say “Brienne” just yet.

Sansa hurried towards her husband. She could see Jeyne coming forward as well from another direction. They reached Stranger at the same time, both with the same question. “What happened?”

Sandor shook his head. “Best attend to this one first. He’ll be fine, just a little worse for wear after the traveling. He wanted to make the last of the approach by horse, but he kept falling over. Finally just put him with me. Damn fool is pushing himself too hard.” He dismounted first, then pulled Robb down. “I’ll take him to his chambers, if someone could get Maester Kynen.”

Sansa stayed behind as Jeyne went with Sandor and Robb. “Sansa, my darling girl,” her mother said, embracing her. The Greatjon wasn’t far behind her. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too, Mother,” Sansa said, then hugged her uncle. “You as well, Uncle Edmure. Did Uncle Brynden or Arya also come back?”

“No, darling, they stayed at the Twins, but we will discuss this later. Robb needs us at his side.”

**********

“I’m sorry, the Freys did _what?!”_ Sansa exclaimed.

Robb had fallen asleep after drinking some dreamwine, and Sandor had dragged Sansa back to their own chambers. After showing her how much he had missed her, they were lying in their bed, and he was telling her what had happened after the Stark army had left Riverrunn as they waited for Robb to wake up again. Sandor didn’t agree with her mother and uncle on waiting to talk about it.

“The Freys attempted to betray King Robb,” Sandor said. “The trip to the Twins was easy enough, bit of rain, but not enough to truly slow us down. We arrived almost exactly a month after we left. Lord Frey was a right bastard about greeting us, but I suppose he’s like that to most people. We received guests rights, though Frey was too ready for it. I expected him to draw it out, tease your family before finally giving in. Your sister felt the same, that something just wasn’t quite right. I was near the back of the first company, so none of the Freys saw me at first. It was after, when I was making rounds that a Frey approached me. Must not have heard the joyous news of our marriage, he assumed I was there for the Lannisters. I didn’t correct him, and soon the cunt is explaining what I can do to help take down the Starks, how they and the Boltons would be ambushing your brother after the newlyweds left the feast. Only time I’ve ever been glad someone recognized my ugly mug. I told him I’d be ready to go. Went to tell your mother and brother first, and they didn’t believe me. Thought I was trying to cause trouble. The Blackfish and the Greatjon took it more seriously. They had both had the same feeling. Arya overheard us talking. Took her own precautions. When the vows were said, the feast was eaten, and the bedding commenced, that was when they hit us.”

He laughed. “They played the ‘Rains of Castamere.’ Fuckin’ signed their own murderous intent and told us who was backing them. They would have killed us all, but the Blackfish had given orders to the troops to not partake of any wine, to wear mail under our clothes, and keep our weapons close, hidden. We were ready, but your sister...damn. We all thought she was out of harm’s way, safe on her way to the bedding, and then there she was, a dagger to Walder Frey’s throat. He warned her that guests rights went both ways, she would be just as cursed as he was. She spit in his face, and told him she hadn’t partaken, that the gods would forgive her. Her exact words were, ‘I find you guilty of treason against the king in the North and the high lords you swore allegiance to. Your punishment is death. _Valar morghulis.’_ Don’t know where she learned High Valyrian, but if I remember correctly, it means ‘All men must die.’ She drew the knife across his throat, and that crusty old man that had outlived more people than you’d think possible was no more. A few of his sons tried to fight back, but more of them surrendered. Once word got around that their patriarch was dead, more and more Frey men lay down their arms. Grey Wind was wounded, but he’ll live. Never seen an animal just rip a man’s head clean off before. After that, well, it was easy enough. The Blackfish is holding the Twins, along with the Mormonts and the Mallisters. Arya has been named the Lady of the Crossing, her Frey husband has been thrown in the dungeon, after the marriage was consummated.”

“She went through with it?” Sansa was surprised.

“Shocked the hell out of all of us. Though, uh, I kind of suspect it wasn’t the Frey she consummated with. Can't remember his name. He wasn't that notable, to be honest.”

“You don’t? Why not?”

“You notice Gendry around lately?”

“Oh, no, now that you mention it. I’ve spoken often with Hot Pie, but I don’t find much reason to go by the blacksmith’s.”

“You wouldn’t have found him there. He marched with the army, went to the Twins. Saw him around the new Lady’s chambers, looking like the cat that ate the canary. Arya was always harsher on him than any other.”

“What does that mean? I mean, why does that make a difference?”

“Your sister...she’s a lot like me in some ways. Always harsher on the ones we like, yet softer on them, too,” Sandor said, rubbing her shoulder. She remembered how harsh Sandor had been to her in King’s Landing. _Oh...Oh!_

“So you think...she and Gendry…”

“Makes sense. She did say she had a plan for her Frey husband. She might have planned to cuckold him, give him a bastard by a bastard.”

“Sounds like something she might try, I suppose,” Sansa said. “Did you ask her?”

He shrugged. “Figured it was her business, best to not fuck it up for her.”

“Hmmm...true…but what about Robb’s injury?”

“Ah, that. He went head to head with Roose Bolton, got an arrow in the thigh, nearly cost him his balls, but he gutted the man before he fell. Hoisted him over my shoulder and carried him out. He kept complaining I was jostling him on purpose.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Were you?”

He shrugged. “He’s been damn annoying about our marriage. Might have put a little extra bounce in my step when I carried him. Cursed at me the whole time. He’s shit at cursing, by the way.”

She giggled. “You’re horrible.”

“Never doubt that. He’ll be fine. I’ve had worse than that and lived to tell the tale. Oh, got you something,” Sandor said, and handed her a small wrapped present. “For your nameday. Since I wasn’t here for it. Nineteenth, right?”

“You remembered,” she whispered and hugged him.

“How could I forget?” he asked her as she unwrapped the delicate necklace with a bird as the pendant. “Best day of the year.”


	8. Goodbyes and Goodsisters

When they broke their fast the next morning, Catelyn announced that Robb was doing much better. He even managed to join them at the table. Sandor had whispered, “Told you,” much to her mother’s ire. She also announced that there had been news from King’s Landing. Joffrey was dead, poisoned at his own wedding. His uncle Tyrion had been put on trial, but the news of the outcome had not yet arrived. Nothing was said of “Arya Lannister.” Sansa held Beny, bouncing him a little on her lap. Tyrion had been the kindest of the Lannisters, which wasn’t saying much, but she didn’t think he deserved punishment, if he did kill Joffrey. She had her doubts about if he _had_ done it, if she was being honest. Tyrion struck her as more of a family man than anything else. _Must be from my memories of him with Myrcella and Tommen in Winterfell,_ she thought.

Sandor winced when he heard about Joffrey. “He was lost to me long ago. Best to just forget about him,” was all he said. No one else seemed to hear him. Beny started chanting “Papa” to Sandor’s delight, though he scowled at Beny and told him “Mama” was more important. "Papapapapapapapapapapapapappa!" was Beny's response.

“There’s some news from across the Narrow Sea,” Edmure said, ignoring his goodnephew arguing with Beny. “Dragons. The last Targaryen, a young woman named Daenerys, has been using her dragons, an army of Unsullied and two sellsword companies to conquer the Eastern continent. Or parts of it, at least.”

“That doesn’t alter our plans, however,” Robb said. “Once the army is regrouped, we’ll head back North. Ramsay Snow holds Winterfell. We must take it back.”

“He was part of his father’s plot with the Freys?” Sansa asked. Catelyn had been outraged that Sandor had told her what had transpired at the Twins, but she ignored her mother’s pinched mouth.

“Possibly, or he’s acting on his own now that his father is dead, and his stepmother is a prisoner. Either way, he is not acting for the Starks,” Robb said. He seemed to have aged ten years since he left for Arya’s wedding. “We received a raven. He’s declared himself the Warden of the North, as is his ‘right’ as the only son of Roose Bolton. The coup the Boltons and Freys tried to accomplish...it seems Bolton was promised our House seat in exchange for getting rid of me. Probably by the Lannisters. Joffrey may have been a fool about battle, but Tywin is still very much in control. The Freys would not have moved without his assurance of support.”

“We’ve also received ravens from Stannis and the Wall. Stannis wants to treat with Robb, and the Night’s Watch is requesting assistance from the whole of the Seven Kingdoms,” Catelyn said. “Invaders from beyond the Wall.”

“Once we take back Winterfell, we can head to the Wall,” Robb said. “I'll speak to the heads of the Houses on this later, but it is likely they will all agree with me.”

Sansa held Beny tightly. She had a bad feeling about this.

**********

They received the news of Lysa’s marriage and death in the same raven. Catelyn was inconsolable, and stayed in the sept with Edmure.

“Her body hadn’t been found when the rider left the Eyrie. The official story says she was thrown from the Moon door by a singer, jealous of the attentions she once bestowed upon him and now given to her husband, Petyr Baelish,” Sansa said that night. Sandor had been at training all day, and was just now hearing the news from her.

“Is that what they say?”

She nodded. “The rider who brought the message also said there was a rumor that it was her own jealousy, that Baelish has a bastard daughter and Aunt Lysa threw herself to her death because she couldn’t handle how beautiful the girl is and how much Baelish loves her.”

“I’ve known the man longer than I care to remember. Littlefinger doesn’t have a bastard daughter.”

“He does now,” Sansa said.

**********

Sandor had finished his training for the day and was taking a well earned hot bath. Beny was playing with his doll on the floor while Sansa scrubbed Sandor's back, though his eyes were drooping as he fought against sleep. The army of King Robb was scheduled to march out the next day to retake Winterfell from Ramsay Snow. The Umbers and the Glovers were already there to begin a siege. Lord Greatjon Umber had come to say his goodbyes to the ladies of Riverrun, along with Lord Glover, before they had left.

“I wish you could stay here,” she told him. “I feel like we never have enough time together.” Sandor had been put in charge of training his own company of men. It involved long, grueling hours every single day for the past month.

“I know, little bird.” He groaned when she scrubbed against a bruise. “It's alright,” he said when she apologized. “I wish I could stay behind as well. I console myself by knowing my efforts will protect you and Beny. It's all for you, Sansa. You and our son, you are my reasons.”

“Come back to me, so that I may give you more reasons,” she said. He rose and stepped out of the tub, a toweling cloth ready for him. He wiped away the water dripping from his body, and Sansa only mourned it for a moment before she was heading over to pick up Beny, who only fussed slightly as she took him to the nursery in the next room. Sansa wouldn’t allow her mother to find a wet nurse for Beny and insisted on doing it herself. She also insisted on keeping Beny’s nursery in their chambers for the same reason, for when he was hungry in the night, which thankfully wasn’t as often as when they first started. Sandor was already in bed when she returned and pulled her shift off as she settled on top of him. He often didn’t have the energy for vigorous lovemaking these days, but enjoyed watching her ride him until they both reached their peaks.

“How long do you think you will be away?” she asked afterward, settling into his side. He had one arm around her shoulders, the other behind his head. She played with the hair on his chest as it rose and fell with every breath.

“Hard to say. According to the reports, Winterfell was nearly destroyed with the Bastard burned it. Now that he’s occupying it, he’ll have probably done some rebuilding, but the stores will have been depleted. The siege itself might even finish before we get there, but going to the Wall…” He paused. “Depends on too many factors. It might be a while, little bird.”

“I’m not sure how I will get through your absence. The two and a half months you were away for Arya’s wedding...all I wanted was for you to be back already,” she whispered. “I feel like a part of me is missing when you’re gone.”

“Same here, little bird. I’ll do everything in my power to get back to you as quick as I can.” His voice was a low rumble as he nodded off into sleep. Sansa stayed awake a while longer, praying to the gods to watch over her husband and bring him back to her.

**********

“Sansa, darling, are you alright?” Catelyn asked her one morning. Robb and his army had left for Winterfell nearly two months earlier and Sansa had become lost in daydreams of Sandor’s return. They were sitting in Catelyn’s solar with Queen Jeyne and her mother, embroidering cloth. Sansa was practicing making dogs, but they kept turning into wolves. Beny was on a thick blanket next to her, having fallen asleep in the middle of playing with his doll and the wooden horse Sandor had given him. His bottom was high in the air, and the doll was serving as a pillow. It did not look particularly comfortable, but if she moved him, he would wake and promptly cry for at least an hour. He loved his sleep.

“Yes, Mother. I am well. I just...I miss my husband, that’s all.” She went back to her embroidery.

“With a husband like that, I can only imagine,” Lady Westerling said, making a somewhat crude gesture that Sansa could only interpret as a representation of Sandor’s manhood. Both she and Jeyne blushed furiously while Catelyn glared at the cackling woman.

“Mother!” Jeyne exclaimed. “This is most unseemly talk about Ser Sandor.”

“He’s not a knight,” Sansa said automatically. Jeyne knew this, but she was more stubborn about titles than Sansa, especially around Lady Westerling.

“Lord Clegane then,” Jeyne said, but he wasn’t a lord either. _Not really. He was named the new lord of Clegane’s Keep by Father, but Ser Gregor still holds power there._ Sansa wasn’t sure if she should correct her again, considering how her mother was glaring daggers. She decided to change the subject.

“Is there any news from the field? Or the Twins?” she asked. Arya had been doing well as the Lady of the Crossing, making changes for the better. She had been writing to Sansa, but it took time for the letters to get to their destinations. Ravens were much faster, but limited in the amount of content.

Catelyn sighed. “Only that they are making good progress to the Wall.” The siege had indeed been over by the time the rest of the army arrived. A portion of the men had stayed behind to help rebuild, and Arya had sent some of her men to help. Sandor was not among Robb’s men to stay, much to Sansa’s chagrin. She had hoped he would be there when she arrived. Catelyn, the queen, Lady Westerling and Sansa would be traveling to Winterfell within the next few days, as the main keep was nearly finished and the wall around the castle was in relatively good condition with minimal need for repair. “There has been some news from Edmure. He has reached the Free Cities and is headed to Mereen where the Dragon Queen is located. Hopefully, she will grant him an audience.” Sansa questioned whether it was a good idea to send Uncle Edmure to speak with Daenerys Targaryen, but he was the only one who had been willing to go.

“There’s still no word of Lord Tyrion,” Jeyne said. She had found the news from King’s Landing fascinating and would try to keep up with it. King Tommen had married his brother’s bride, Lady Margaery Tyrell. The Imp had been found guilty in a trial by combat for Joffrey’s death, when Gregor Clegane killed Prince Oberyn of Dorne. Sansa had stayed with Sandor in the training yard after he heard the news, watching over him as he hacked away at the wooden dummies, then later holding him in their bed as he cried. She wasn’t sure if he was crying from not being able to do anything or if it was from his past. He did not tell her and she did not ask, she was simply there for him. It was said that Gregor suffered from poisoning and that his screams could be heard clear across the whole of King’s Landing before he died. Sansa hoped his suffering was excruciating. Tyrion Lannister had disappeared from his cell before his execution and there was a bounty on his head. Before leaving, Robb declared that if Tyrion Lannister should seek refuge with any Stark or Tully bannermen, it should be granted. Robb had told her of Tyrion’s kindness to Bran, and Sansa had told him of her encounters with him in King’s Landing. Catelyn had misgivings, but the three of them agreed on this course of action.

Beny began to stir, making smacking noises as he woke, a sure sign he was hungry. “Your grace, I will beg your forgiveness now. I must take my son to his nursery.” Sandor had bought her a rocking chair while they lived in the communal housing, and it was her favorite place to nurse Beny.

As she picked Beny and his toys up, Jeyne said, “Let me accompany you. We rarely have time together, you and I.” Lady Westerling protested, but Catelyn started talking and distracted her enough that the two younger women could get away. Brienne and another guard escorted them to Sansa’s chambers, keeping a small distance behind them. Sansa preferred having Brienne walk beside her, but Brienne wasn’t as familiar with the queen as she was with Sansa.

Once they were in the nursery, Sansa took her customary seat in the rocking chair, while Brienne brought over a chair and some pillows for Jeyne, then left to stand guard outside the door with the second soldier. Jeyne sat there quietly as Beny began to suckle. Sansa hummed a soft tune, rubbing Beny’s back, rocking the chair back and forth slowly.

“Why do you nurse him yourself?” Jeyne asked. Sansa looked up at her in surprise. “You refused a wet nurse, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Sansa replied. She looked down at Beny. “I suppose...I just feel closer to him by doing this. We couldn’t afford to have an extra person with us on the road when we were running from the capital, so it was up to me. He’s quite a good baby. Not like my brother Rickon…” She trailed off, but then shook herself of the melancholy, trying to focus on the good. “Rickon was a cryer. Kept the entire keep up for hours on end. Beny is more like Bran, very quiet, but will let you know when he’s upset.”

“He looks so much like his father. It’s the eyes and hair, I suppose.”

Sansa laughed. “Sandor would say he looks more like me, though I agree with you.”

“May I ask you something personal?” Jeyne said, her voice softer as gazed at Beny.

“Of course. I may not answer, but you may ask.”

“Did you love him when you first lay with him, when you conceived Beny? Your husband, I mean. Did you love him then?”

“Ah...that’s...that’s complicated,” Sansa said. “But...yes, I did. I was terrified of him when I first met him, a little more than two years ago, but I slowly realized that he was the one person I could count on in King’s Landing. As time went on, I found myself drawn to him, and he was equally drawn to me. Enough to finally throw off his Lannister collar and offer me his help. I loved him before I realized it.”

“It’s like a song,” Jeyne said with wonder. Sansa laughed again and shook her head.

“No. It was quite awful for the most part. Life is not a song, sweet Jeyne, but with the right person by your side, the world becomes a little less awful.” She looked down at Beny. “Children help as well.”

Jeyne made a soft happy sound and rubbed her belly. “I hope to give Robb a son. I don’t want him to regret choosing me over the Freys.” Sansa said nothing, but gave Jeyne a smile. “I know what people think of me, and they are right, just a little bit. I did throw myself at him on purpose, but not because he was named King in the North.” Jeyne looked straight into Sansa’s eyes. “It was because I fell in love with him, hearing about his dedication, his honor. When he showed up at our gates, I thought the Seven had answered my prayers. He was so handsome and so wonderful. I… I am a little ashamed. I _used_ the news of your brothers’ deaths to snare Robb, but I couldn’t think of anything else! Mother encouraged me to do so, but for her, she was trying to make me queen. I honestly don’t care about that. I just want to make Robb happy, to be a good wife to him, to give him heirs, whether he’s the King or simply Lord Stark. Actually…” Jeyne looked over at the closed door. “Mother doesn’t want anyone to know just yet, but...I’m pregnant!”

Sansa gasped, “Oh my goodness! Congratulations! Does Robb know?”

Jeyne shook her head. “I wish I could tell him. I didn’t know until after he left, and Mother says it wouldn’t do to send a raven with the news.”

“Why don’t you speak to my mother?” Sansa suggested. “She is quite knowledgeable about these things. She might be able to offer you a solution.”

“I don’t know…Mother says--”

“Jeyne, you love my brother, yes?” Jeyne nodded. “Robb is very close with our mother. Telling her you are going to give her a grandson, it will make you closer with her, which will please Robb.”

“You really think so?”

Sansa nodded. “I do. Besides, she’s given birth to five children. I was mostly unaware when this one was born.” _Not a lie,_ Sansa thought. _I really had no idea what happened when Beny was born._ “Otherwise I would offer advice.”

“What about your pregnancy? What was that like?” Jeyne leaned forward eagerly. “I’m only about three months along now, but I’ve only suffered from morning illness the past few sennights. Mostly in the evening, oddly enough.”

“Oh...well, it...it _differs_ from woman to woman.” She was pretty sure she heard that somewhere. “You might...you might have some aversions to certain foods, certain smells. You might crave odd food choices. I heard of one woman who wanted pickled eggs and sweet cream.” Lollys Stokeworth had eaten that once, but she was as much a maid as Sansa had been at the time. She wondered how Lollys was doing. She was a sweet girl, if a bit simple. She hoped she was well. “And I’ve also heard of some women who don’t have any cravings at all.” Jeyne Poole’s mother had talked about how her pregnancy with Jeyne had been one of the easiest the maester had ever seen, and it had taken a few months before they realized she was pregnant to begin with, since she showed none of the classic signs.

Sansa allowed her thoughts to drift to her friend. She hadn’t seen her since the Stark household was purged from the Red Keep. She tried to not think of her often. The guilt she felt towards Jeyne Poole was overpowering, but there was nothing she could do to ease the guilt or find out what happened to Jeyne. All she knew was the she was sent to Petyr Baelish. She had thought Jeyne would be safe with him, seeing as how he was her mother’s friend, but Sandor’s revelations about the man transferred the guilt she once felt over her father’s death to Jeyne’s fate. Was she still alive? Was she safe? Was she happy? Or was she... was she in her own personal hell? She realized that the Jeyne in front of her was speaking again.

“--if the child is a girl, but Eddard if the child is a boy. Do you think that would be alright?” Jeyne asked her.

“It sounds like a fine set of names you have there,” Sansa said, smiling weakly at her goodsister.


	9. Winterfell

They set out for Winterfell with a slight chill in the air. Arya’s letter had reached Sansa just the day before. Some of the contents she shared with the others. Arya was pregnant. Seventeen years old, and she was with child before Sansa. She was happy for her sister, but at the same time, envious that she couldn’t give the same news. Gendry was still at the Twins, probably the father of the child and acting as Arya’s shield, though he had little training in how to fight. Sandor had tried to teach him a bit while they were at Riverrun. That had been _somewhat_ successful. Arya was aware of this, and had taken matters into her own hands. In the content Sansa had not shared with anyone except Beny, Arya wrote that she had hired a man to come to the Twins to teach her Braavosi Water Dancing, a sword style she had been learning in King’s Landing. _So that’s what Father meant by getting her a dancing teacher!_ Gendry seemed to do better with a warhammer than a sword, so Arya had someone teaching him on the sly.

**********

The trip to Winterfell was relatively uneventful, except for the moment Sansa realized she hadn’t had her moonblood in quite a while. She had swung Beny around joyously, singing to him, “You are going to be a big brother! You’re going to be a big brother!” She knew she must have been at least two months along, maybe even three. She didn’t tell anyone yet. The trip had been easy, but anything could happen. Once they reached Winterfell, she would speak to the maester. She prayed every morning, noon and evening now. Sandor was at the top of the list, then her brother and sister, followed by her mother and uncles, and then the family that was traveling with her. Today, she ended her prayers with words of thanks for her unborn child, and for the strength to carry it to its birth.

“You’re pregnant?” she heard behind her. She recognized the voice as Brienne’s and turned to give the woman a small smile. She entered Sansa’s tent, letting the cloth flap fall closed behind her.

“I think so. I need to see the maester to confirm it, but yes, I believe I am.”

“Why haven’t you told your mother? Surely she would want to know this wonderful news.” Brienne sat down on the cot provided to Sansa. Beny saw her from his crib and started flailing in excitement, reaching for Brienne with his chubby little hands. She smiled as she picked him up.

“I want to, but considering how she feels about Sandor, I am hesitant. She still hasn’t been very welcoming of Beny.”

“Well...she just...I’m sure she’ll come around. Eventually.” Sansa gave her a look. “Alright, she might never accept your husband, but I’m sure she’ll accept Beny. She doesn’t spend a lot of time around him. Maybe you could ask her to take him for a few hours?”

“I suppose I could at least try. The worst she could say is no.” Sansa sighed and leaned on Brienne’s arm. It was the same habit she had with Sandor, but it was different with Brienne. Her affection for Brienne was more of a sisterhood than what she felt for Sandor. “How’s Ser Jaime taking this trip?”

She could practically _hear_ Brienne roll her eyes. “He’s loving every minute of it. He won’t be quiet and keeps chittering on and on about the scenery. Which it _is_ quite beautiful, but one can only hear about how lovely a tree is for so long!”

Sansa giggled. “I’ll have to ride with you two today, so I can see what you are talking about. Now that you know about my condition, you can keep an eye on me as well.”

“If you hadn’t suggested it, I would have insisted.”

**********

Sansa kept riding with Hot Pie, Brienne and Ser Jaime the rest of the trip, Beny in his wicker basket on her back. Jeyne wanted to join them, but her mother insisted she stay in the wheelhouse with her and Lady Catelyn. It was amusing to Sansa and Hot Pie to watch the two of them bicker. Well, it was more Brienne bickering and Jaime poking at her. He was allowed a certain amount of freedom, as long as Brienne was there. She was the only one he seemed to behave around, and he was the only one Brienne truly relaxed around. She was at ease with Sansa, of course, but the freedom of spirit she exhibited around Ser Jaime was nothing like Sansa had seen before. It was a shame he was technically their prisoner.

When they stopped at the Twins to visit Arya, Sansa took Brienne’s advice and asked Catelyn to watch Beny for an hour or two, claiming she needed a rest. “Why does he have this doll?” her mother asked. Beny was reaching for it, whining a little when Catelyn kept it from his reach.

“It was the last gift Father gave me,” Sansa replied. “Beny’s been attached to it since he was three months old.”

“Ned gave this to you?”

Sansa nodded. “Arya and I had been fighting. It was not long before...before he was captured. Everything else we had was taken away. When we left King’s Landing, I did not have much I wanted to take with me, but that doll, I had to bring it with me.”

“I see…” Catelyn brought the doll back to Beny. “Very well. I will watch over him for one hour.”

“Thank you, Mother.”

**********

There was a letter waiting for her when they reached Winterfell. The acting castellan lead her to her old chambers, though she told him she remembered the way. When she and Beny entered the room, it was sitting on the nightstand next to her bed. Sandor’s scratchy handwriting greeted her, and she devoured the contents.

 _Sansa,_ _  
_ _I hope this letter finds you well. We have spent a few days in Winterfell, and your brother was ‘gracious’ enough to allow me to sleep in your chambers. I hope I get to carry him to the maester again sometime soon. He’s getting on my last nerve._

She giggled when she read that. Beny batted at the paper, speaking baby talk as she continued to read.

 _I miss you, little bird. More than I thought I would, and I thought it would be a great amount. As we spoke of before, it feels like a part of me is missing. My heart, I suppose, since it belongs to you. The men teased me over how my pretty wife must miss my giant cock and not much else. I know better, but I still taught a few of them that teasing the Hound is not a wise idea._  
    _Do you miss it, pretty wife? Like I miss your sweet cunt? Do you miss my raspy voice, like I miss your bird chirps? Do you miss my crude jokes, like I miss your pretty stories? I miss your laugh, the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking back, the little noise you make when you’re about to come. I miss the way you cling to me in your sleep like you were going to fall out of bed otherwise. I miss the way you nag me to not overwork myself, and how you always manage to convince me to retire for the evening with a few well placed touches and a kiss. I especially miss how warm you kept me on the cold nights. I don’t sleep as well without you either, but I try. I love you, Sansa, my little bird. I didn’t think I could ever care for someone the way I care for you. Keep this bed warm for me. I think I’m going to need it once I return._  
    _I suppose I miss the pup, too. More jealous of him right now, since he gets to spend his days with you, and I have to spend mine with a bunch of foul men that think farting is the funniest thing ever. Obviously, it’s only the third funniest. There’s a few new toys for Beny, I left them in the chest at the foot of the bed. Nameday presents. If I calculated right, you would have been traveling to Winterfell when it happened. Give him a kiss from his papa, and I will be back for you two soon._

_Your faithful Hound, Sandor_

_PS I know you love me too. So don’t worry that you haven’t said it._

She wanted to cry. She was so happy to read his letter, but also saddened by the fact that she hadn’t told him how she felt, not with those three little words. She had wanted to say it, so many times, but she wasn’t sure how he would receive such a declaration. _It seems I was worrying over nothing,_ she thought with a sad smile.  _He knew all along, didn't he?_ “Oh, Sandor…”

“Pa..pa? Papa here?” Beny said, looking up at her. He was beginning to say short sentences.

“Yes, sweet one. Papa was here. Let’s go see what he left you, shall we?”

**********

She went to visit Maester Yenn with Brienne the next day. He was new from the Citadel, but he looked more like Maester Luwin’s age. He was very kind and patient with Sansa, even checking Beny over.

“Such a strapping young lad. His father is up North with the King, you say?”

“Yes, hopefully he will be back before this one is born,” she said, placing her hand over her stomach. There was a very noticeable bump there, and she had taken to wearing looser gowns. Her mother had only noticed when they were traveling through the Neck. To be fair, Sansa had been keeping company with Brienne and Jaime. She was happier than Sansa had originally thought, but still held reservations.

“Oh, yes, indeedy. That would be for the best. You’re about six months along now. That sound about right?”

Sansa nodded. “I think I conceived right before he left to come north with the army, but I only realized it was a possibility a sennight or two into our trip up here. I was nervous that the baby wouldn’t survive the trip, so I didn’t say anything to anyone. Well, Brienne found out almost immediately, but Mother, Lady Catelyn, didn’t know until it was very noticeable. I rode in a cart once I was at four months, just to be on the safe side, and in the wheelhouse when the weather became too much. Autumn is quite rainy.”

Maester Yenn nodded. “That’s good. Very good. Some pregnancies do not last through the first three months, but the more time passes, the stronger the babe becomes and the more likely you will carry it to the full time. Now, I want you to rest daily, try to keep off your feet for at least two hours a day, in addition to your normal activities. If you feel odd, or really anything at all, please come see me. First time mothers need extra care.”

“Oh, I’m not… I mean…” She looked over at Beny. He was playing with a wooden horse and his doll, not paying attention to the adults. “You can tell?”

The maester smiled at her. “Yes. I won’t tell anyone. If I may, how did this come to be?”

“Thank you, Maester Yenn. Beny...I love him as if he were my own. His mother died, killed by bandits, and his father passed away before he was even born. He had no one, except me...and my husband. He looks like him, same hair and eyes, though Sandor says he has my nose and brow. I don’t want anyone to reject him, just because he isn’t my own flesh.”

“Never fear, my dear. If anyone learns about it, it won’t be from me.”

Brienne was in the hallway waiting for her. “What did he say?”

“We’re all perfectly healthy,” Sansa said with a smile. “I hope Sandor returns soon. He doesn’t even know he left me this wonderful gift.”

“It wasn’t so wonderful when you were getting sick constantly on the road.” They walked back to the main area of the castle. Supper was still hours away, but Sansa was famished. She hadn't had any unusual cravings, but she just wanted to eat all the time.

“Yet I managed to keep it to a minimum and we didn’t lose any time.” She had been quite proud of herself for that one.

“Your horse was not pleased. You kept just leaning over and letting it go right there.”

“I kept it off of Pallas. For the most part. I only had to clean her off that _one_ time.” It had been horrid, absolutely horrid. Brienne and Ser Jaime had helped, but Pallas refused to let her ride for three days after that. It had taken a lot of bribing and a _lot_ of honey sweetened oats. Hot Pie would have been able to help, but he decided to stay at the Twins when the rest of them continued on. “She forgave me. Eventually.”

“Mmhmm.” Brienne smirked.

**********

Jeyne gave birth to her baby, a boy she named Eddard, a little more than two months after they arrived. Sansa sat with Jeyne afterward. The young queen had had a difficult birth, and would require extra bedrest. A wet nurse had been found and the young prince was with her at the moment.

“How is he?” Jeyne asked. “Is he...is he healthy? Is he strong?”

“He’s perfect, Jeyne,” Sansa said, trying to soothe her friend. She held Jeyne's hand and rubbed the back of it slowly. Jeyne seemed to welcome the touch. “Robb will love him the moment he lays eyes on him. We received a raven from him a few days ago. Mother doesn't know, we're not to tell her, but Bran has been found. He’s at Castle Black with Jon, Summer, Hodor and two Reeds. You remember, I told you about Hodor and Summer. I don’t know who the Reeds are, except they are Howland Reed’s children. He was a friend of my father’s. Rickon is still missing but we’re sure to find him soon. He’s alive, I just know it.”

“Good...good…” Jeyne said, weaker than Sansa had expected. Sansa wasn’t sure Jeyne had heard anything she had just said. “I’m just going to rest a bit.”

“Of course. The maester is here to check on you. I’ll come back later.”

**********

The rebuilding went quicker than she expected. Even with being ill after giving birth, Jeyne demonstrated a wonderful talent for making everything run smoothly. It was almost a shame she was a queen instead of the Lady of Winterfell. All the extra hands Arya had sent helped immensely as well, and they were able to start working immediately. The sept, glass houses, guest housing, and Maester’s Turret were still works in process. The gates, stables, armory, the great keep, and smithy were completed, while the great hall, kitchen, and library tower were nearly completed. Everything else had been either unbroken or the repairs minimal. For all the terrible things Ramsay had done, he had actually kept parts of Winterfell in good condition. She didn’t want to know why the kennels were the best kept of all. The rumors of what he had done kept her up for too many nights, and she had to walk with Beny and Brienne until she was too tired to think and could simply fall into bed, asleep before her head even hit the pillow. When her stomach was too large for her to take her long nightly walks, Ser Jaime would tell her the most amusing stories. He said it was something he did for his brother when he had had nightmares as a child. Jaime often got a faraway look in his eyes when Tyrion was brought up. For his sake, Sansa prayed that Lord Tyrion was safe and healthy. Ser Jaime had become her dear friend, and was currently her temporary shield, on a trial basis. Jaime had become a (mostly) trusted member of Winterfell. Catelyn still had her doubts, but as long as Brienne was in Winterfell, Ser Jaime was allowed free reign. Sansa was just _sure_ that the two of them had feelings for each other, but neither one had said anything to the other.

Jeyne was looking much better these days, though still much too pale for anyone’s liking. She agreed with Sansa about Jaime and Brienne, and the two of them would giggle over who would tell the other first. Sansa thought it would be Jaime, while Jeyne thought it would be Brienne. Their mothers scolded them for being so trivial in their conversations, but Sansa didn’t care. If she wasn’t silly, then she would begin to worry about why there had been no news from the Wall. Not even a single raven.

**********

The pain set in mid morning, as she was taking a leisurely stroll with Beny, Brienne and Ser Jaime to see the newly completed glass gardens. She nearly fell to her knees, and was grateful Ser Jaime had been holding Beny at the time. “Muma hur?” Beny asked as Brienne helped Sansa along.

“Just a little pain, sweet one,” she told him, trying to keep the agony from reflecting on her face. He was looking at her with much curiosity, strongly reminding her of Sandor. He was more and more like his father everyday, though Catelyn insisted that he looked like Sansa. She wondered what her mother would think if she knew Sandor believed the same thing. “I think you will get to meet your new sibling soon.”

“Sibby!” Beny clapped his hands with delight.

“Jaime, can you watch Beny? I will take Lady Sansa to the maester.”

“Of course, I’ll take him to Lady Catelyn.”

“Byyyyyyyyyeeee, mummmaaaaaa!” Beny waved as Jaime walked off. “Byyyyyyyyeeeee, sibby! Byyyyyyyyye, Brennnnnnnnnnn!”

“Are you able to walk on your own power or would you like assistance?”

“Your arm will be sufficient, Brienne. Perhaps...perhaps we can send someone ahead? To let Maester Yenn know we are on our way.”

“Of course, Sansa. Look, there’s someone now. You there! I have an errand for you!”

**********

It hurt. It hurt so much, and all Sansa wanted was for Sandor to be with her. By the time her second son was born, she was exhausted and desperately needed something cool to soothe her aching throat from all the screaming she had done. She slipped into a well earned sleep, waking hours later. Arya was there when she opened her eyes, gazing into the crib of the newborn, showing her own child her new cousin.

“You did well, Sansa.” A cool hand on her forehead. She turned to see Bran. “He’s a fine child. Sandor will be pleased once he returns.”

“You’ve seen him? You’ve seen my Sandor?” she asked her brother. He nodded. “Is he well? Is he eating enough? Will you tell him of us? Of his second son?”

“He is as well as he can be. The war is nearly over. The dragon queen approaches. She will be the final nail in the coffin of the Others. Your husband will return to you. Be patient with him as you have been before. He will need it again. I will tell him everything you wish him to know, but I think you’ll want to let your second son be a surprise. Trust me.”

Jon walked over to stand next to Arya. “He’s so tiny. Not like his father at all. More like Sansa. She was tiny when she was born. Do you remember, Robb?” Robb just laughed and nodded his head.

Rickon peeked out, “I don’t know. He seems like the kind that start off small and then grow to be huge.”

“Have you a name for this one?” Arya asked. “Will he be Eddard? I named my little girl Lyanna. She has the brightest blue eyes, just like the winter rose.” Sansa saw Arya holding a mewling infant. “She’s so pretty, like her father.”

“I thought your Frey husband was ugly?” Jon asked. Arya rolled her eyes.

“Jeyne named our son Eddard,” Robb chimed in. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

“I don’t know what to name him,” Sansa said. “Eddard doesn’t seem right for him either, even if his cousin wasn’t named as such.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” Bran said, kissing her forehead. “Rest now, sister. You will need your strength.”

She opened her eyes to find Brienne staring at her, her hand on Sansa’s shoulder. She suspected Brienne had been shaking her. “Is something wrong, Brienne?”

“Your eyes...they were rolled back, all I could see was white,” she whispered.

“Oh...it was...it was nothing bad,” Sansa said. “Where are my children?”

Brienne smiled. “I’ll get the nurse.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: The group got to Winterfell almost a year after Sansa and Sandor left King's Landing.  
> 2nd fun fact: Their baby is born 1 year and three months after they left King's Landing. :D  
> 3rd fun fact: At the end of this chapter, the time line has passed the books. Not quite the show, but I'm not using show!canon that much, so not sure how relevant that is.


	10. The New and the Old

Sansa recovered much faster from childbirth than Jeyne had. Her mother was dismayed that Sansa had decided to continue nursing, though Beny had stopped when the new baby was born. She supposed it was alright, as he was a year and four months now, though she would miss the bonding time together. “Sibby need. I big boy,” he said proudly.

“Yes, you are!” Catelyn would agree. “So smart, you get that from your mother. Talking so well at such a young age.” 

“Mother…” She knew what Catelyn was driving at.

“Papa smurt! Mama smurt! I smurt!” Beny declared, climbing into the bed with Sansa and “Sibby” with minimal help. Nearly a month had gone by and she still didn’t have a name for her baby.

“Now, now, Houndpup,” Jaime said, picking him up. “Let’s get you cleaned up for supper.”

“Where Brenn? Want Brenn.” Beny pushed at Jaime’s face.

“The wench is getting cleaned up. Like you should be. And she’s mine.”

“Mine. Brenn mine!” Beny screamed gleefully in Jaime’s ear, making him cringe. “Mine mine mine mine mine…” he continued to chant as Jaime carried him away. Sansa sat in her beloved rocking chair, pulling her gown open for the baby.

“Mother, I really wish you would give Sandor a chance. He is not the evil man you believe him to be.”

“Evil doesn't factor into this. He stole your chances for a good match, how can I be pleased with such a man?” Catelyn said, fixing the blanket in the crib. 

“Mother…”

“Don't ‘Mother’ me. You could have married a Northman, a Riverman. Someone kind and not brutish, with good manners and a non-vulgar mouth.”

“I like his mouth just the way it is,” she said, blushing, “even if he does use indecent language at times, and he is very kind to me. I would not love someone who treats me roughly or speaks ill to me. He is a decent man, under all that bark and bite. Mother, can't you understand how much you owe him? Not just because he is my husband, but because of what he’s done for our family. If he hadn't saved me, I  _ wouldn't be here. _ Those men in the riot would have raped and killed me. If it wasn't for Sandor, Arya might still be stuck in Harrenhal. You might not be here either. If that Frey man hadn't assumed he was working for the Lannisters, you would never have known of their plot until it was too late.”

Catelyn shifted uncomfortably. “I don't like him, Sansa. I don't think I ever will.”

“You don't have to like him, Mother.” She held up her free hand to Catelyn’s and squeezed. “All I ask is that you respect the fact that I like him. I love him. And he loves me. He is a good husband, a good father, and he will die to protect his family. More importantly, he will kill anyone who is a threat to us. I cannot ask for a better man than that.”

“But you could have been a great lady of the realm…”

“Not if I was dead.” Sansa paused. “Please, just...be civil to him? Once he returns, we will have to decide what to do next. I don't want to leave here on bad terms.”

She could see her mother struggling with her dislike and her desire to keep her family together. “I will try. That is all I can promise.” 

“Thank you,” she said, giving her mother’s hand one last squeeze. 

**********

They received a visitor to Winterfell a sennight later. “Petyr! What a surprise! I wasn't expecting you at all,” Catelyn said, greeting her old friend. 

Beny was standing next to Sansa, holding onto her skirt, his legs not quite used to holding him up. Sibby was held in her arms. She was immediately wary of Baelish's arrival, remembering what Sandor had told her. She had not shared this information with her mother, hoping to spare her the pain of the betrayal, a fact she was currently regretting. 

_ Why is he here? _

“Cat, it has been too long. I heard that the dragon queen is heading this way, now that the silly battle with the Wildlings is over.” 

_ He doesn’t believe in the Others… _ she thought.  _ He is a fool. _

“I hoped to greet her as Lord Protector of the Vale, and welcome her to Westeros. I brought my goodson, your nephew with me, and my natural daughter, Alayne Stone. I hope this is acceptable.”

“Oh, of course. Well, you are most welcome to stay here. The guest house has been completely rebuilt, better and larger than before. You will be most comfortable there.” 

Sansa didn't miss the look in Baelish's eyes as he smiled at her mother. “I'm sure we will be.” His gaze slid past her and to Sansa. “And who is this beautiful young lady? Your niece? She has the Tully look to her. Your spitting image, in fact.”

“Oh, you don't...of course you couldn't have known. Petyr, this is Sansa, my eldest daughter, and her two sons, Benjen and...well, the younger one is yet to be named but we've all been calling him Sibby.”

Sansa curtsied to the best of her ability. “Lord Baelish. You look well.”

“Sa-Sansa? I heard you died...in the riot…” She gave him a sweet smile, enjoying his confusion, though she prayed he wouldn't figure out Beny's secret. 

“No, not dead. I was spirited from King’s Landing in the chaos, by my husband. We arrived at Riverrun and have been kept in secret by my family.” 

“I apologize for the deceit, Petyr. We couldn't let the Lannisters find out. They already had an imposter for Arya, we didn't want to risk Sansa's safety.” Catelyn accepted Petyr’s arm around her shoulders, though Sansa bristled at the sight. 

“Of course, I completely understand. Ah, where is your husband, sweetling? I would like to give him my thanks for saving you. I may not have been your uncle at the time, but I did hold you in high regard as Cat’s daughter.”

Sansa kept her face as stony as possible. “He is up North with my brother, serving in Robb’s army. He will return soon, if as you say, the war is over.”

“I look forward to meeting him,” Baelish said with a smile. Sansa did not return it. 

Later, when she and Catelyn were alone in the nursery, she said, “Mother, this might sound odd, but...if it's at all possible, would you refrain from speaking of Sandor with Lord Baelish? Or even mentioning his name?”

“I suppose I can do that... I do not enjoy speaking of my goodson, as you know. It should not be a problem.” 

“Thank you, Mother.”

**********

Sansa was alone in the nursery with her boys the next day when a knock at the door startled her. “Lady Sansa?”

“Yes, Brienne?”

“You have a visitor. Alayne Stone.”

_ Baelish's bastard, _ Sansa thought. “Let her in.”

A mousey girl shuffled in, her eyes lowered to the floor, her fingers interlocked nervously, her hair hiding part of her face. “Good morning, Alayne,” Sansa said kindly. “I wasn't expecting to see you so early. Is everything to your satisfaction in your chambers?”

“Ah, yes, Lady Sansa. Everything about Winterfell is like a dream. It is very beautiful.” 

Something about Alayne struck a chord with Sansa.  _ Her voice… _ Setting Sibby down in his crib, Sansa approached Alayne like she would a frightened animal. Alayne seemed skittish enough to be one. She lifted her hands to Alayne’s cheeks, listened to the small gasp as her fingers touched the girl's soft skin. She trembled under Sansa's scrutiny. Slowly, Sansa pushed back the long locks of hair that hid Alayne's face. “Jeyne?” she whispered, blinking back tears. 

“N-no! I am Alayne. Natural daughter of Lord Petyr Baelish, Lord Protector of the Vale. I was born in Gulltown... My mother...was a...a whore… I... I…” 

“No, you are Jeyne. Jeyne Poole. I would know you anywhere,” Sansa said softly, embracing the girl.

Tears were streaming down the girl's face. “Sansa!” She threw her arms around Sansa, sobbing as her knees gave out. Sansa sank to the floor with Jeyne, holding her long lost friend, stroking her hair and cooing to her like she did when her boys got rowdy. 

“I've got you, Jeyne. I've got you,” she whispered. Brienne peeked into the room just then. 

“My lady, is everything alright?”

“Yes, Brienne, everything is fine. Please let my mother know that I will be late for breakfast. I am getting acquainted with our guest.”

“Of course, my lady. I'll have some plates brought up as well.” The door shut firmly behind the woman. 

“Jeyne, come sit with me. Tell me everything.”

**********

They spent the morning sequestered in the nursery, only interrupted twice, once by Brienne with their breakfast and once by Lord Baelish. Jeyne had begged Sansa to not let it be known that her identity had been discovered. He apparently didn’t want Jeyne to approach Sansa at all, but she hadn’t been able to help herself. “As long as he thinks you don't recognize me, he won't interfere,” she whispered right before Baelish entered the nursery. 

“You are getting along well with my Alayne, Sansa?”

“That's  _ Lady _ Sansa, my lord,” Brienne growled. 

“Yes, Lord Baelish, Alayne and I are becoming fast friends. I have invited her to be my companion during your stay with us. She is a delight and my boys love her.”

“An honor, to be sure,” Baelish said, looking far too pleased with this turn of events. “You will be on your best behavior, won't you, Alayne?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Come give your father a kiss.” Jeyne rose slowly, her steps carefully placed and kissed Baelish on the cheek. “That's my good girl. I will see you two at supper.”

Jeyne sank back to the padded mat Beny used for playing. He crawled into her lap and offered her his doll. “Thank you, Beny,” Jeyne said. 

She told Sansa of her time since they last saw each other. Baelish had taken her to one of his brothels on the edge of the city. She had learned the art of seduction from the whores, but she was never made to entertain any of the customers. “I kept the books for them. I was very good at it,” she said. 

“I saw you that day. The day you fled King’s Landing. You were riding behind the Hound on his black monster of a horse. Your scarf slipped, and you turned. It was like you were looking right at me in that moment.”

She remembered that moment. She had felt eyes on her but no one could be seen. “Jeyne…” So close! She had been right there!

“No, you couldn't have known I was there. I was behind a screen in the brothel. I should have called out to you, but I didn't. I let you keep going.” Beny was playing with the two women, having them build with his toy blocks. Jeyne was distracted for a moment. 

“I would have taken you from there, please believe that, Jeyne. I am so sorry that I couldn't save you.”

Jeyne shook her head, smiling a little. “It was better that I stayed. Otherwise… After you were declared dead, Petyr told me that I was to have a new role. I was to become Arya of House Stark.”

“That was you? We knew there was an imposter, but we never imagined...” It was incredible. 

“Yes, well, it was easy enough. Few people remember Arya, and even less remembered Jeyne Poole. I had my doubts about marrying Tyrion, but he was aware of my true identity.”

“Tyrion?” It was the way Jeyne said his name. 

The girl smiled. “We married a fortnight before the battle of the Blackwater. A very small affair. He was so ugly, but he was kind to me. Joffrey stole the stepstool Tyrion was supposed to stand on, so I had to kneel in order to receive his cloak. It was rather embarrassing, and if I were truly a Stark, I probably wouldn’t have done it, but I am a Poole at my core. He whispered his thanks as well as an apology in my ear. He called me Jeyne when we were in private and he told me we could wait to consummate the marriage, if I ever wanted to. Petyr actually told me to do anything I had to in order to keep him from claiming my maidenhead. I was so scared of him that first night, I agreed. I feel so foolish about it now.”

“I’m sure he understood, if he was your friend as you say.” Sansa patted her friend’s shoulder.

“He did. He was very understanding, though I did sense his frustration at times. My Tyrion...he gave me everything I could want, material and immaterial alike. He had a mistress, but I understood. I saw her once. Exotic, beautiful, just oozing lust. Still, he was my friend. We talked often, and I liked to listen to him speak. He told me much about the strategy he had for the battle. His voice was so...so soothing, and I offered my opinion freely. He encouraged it! When he was hurt in the battle…” Jeyne wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand.

“You were worried for him,” Sansa helped.

Jeyne nodded. “I was so scared. He looked so much worse than before...his nose, part of his lip...just sliced right through, he nearly lost those bits _. _ What scared me even more...I thought I might lose him, my only true friend remaining in King’s Landing. I was allowed to stay by his side while he healed, being his wife and all. I read to him until my voice gave out, until my eyes felt like they would begin to bleed from staring at the books for so long. And I prayed for him. He said later that he could hear my voice through the haze of the milk of the poppy. He called me his anchor and his light. He got better, slowly, but surely.” She sighed.

“His man, a sellsword named Bronn, went about the city for him, finding out information. Tyrion had his suspicions about something that happened in the battle. I didn’t really approve, but Tyrion needed to know certain things for once he was able to get up and walk around. Bronn was knighted for his service in the battle. He’s a bit of a silly man, but I always felt better when he guarded Tyrion. He’s very good at his job. Tyrion’s squire, a boy named Podrick, stayed by his side as well. His mistress never visited him, not even once!” Jeyne shook her head. “Ungrateful whore. I even offered to help smuggle her in, just because I knew it would make Tyrion feel better to know she was around. He declined my offer, told me he found my presence better than hers. He didn’t have much to do with her after that. I...I was relieved, to tell you the truth. I understood he had needs, but I was quite jealous of this woman. Once he was healed enough, he was allowed to be moved out of the Holdfast. Petyr was leaving for the Eyrie to court your aunt Lysa, and Tyrion was given the title of Master of Coin. We moved in there before the day was out. It was not as nice as the Tower of the Hand, but it was cozy.”

Jeyne smiled as a memory surfaced. “It feels so silly now, but the day after, Tyrion was resting on the bed and he started talking in his sleep, calling out for Shae. Nearly broke my heart. When he woke, I asked him if he would like to bring his mistress into our household, that I could always use another handmaiden. He said that wouldn't be necessary. But the same thing happened the next day and the next. I was distressed. I knew I cared about him more than a friend, but love hadn't yet crossed my mind. It was on the fifth day, one of my handmaidens was retrieving a book for me, and she came back asking who Jeyne was. I was terrified I had been found out, but she went on to say that the master was calling for Jeyne in his sleep. I went into the bedchamber and sure enough, he was calling my name. My  _ true _ name. I assumed he was calling for Shae, but I never went into the room to verify what he was saying.”

She shook her head, laughing a little. “One night not long after that, we were up late talking. He was making me laugh so much. We were on the bed, lying down, facing each other, telling each other the most ridiculous things we could think of and see if we could guess whether it was true or not. I don't know what came over me, but I suddenly leaned over and... I kissed him. He was startled, but he kissed me back.” She bit her lip, beaming with happiness. “We consummated our marriage that night, and every morning, noon and night after that until…” Her voice trailed off.

“The king’s wedding?”

Jeyne nodded. “Petyr gave me a hairnet to wear. It was a wedding gift. He told me I must wear it to the king’s wedding, and that once the jousting mummers finish their act, I must tell my husband that I felt unwell and go to the godswood.” Jeyne lifted her head, her eyes cast up to the support beams above. “I should have told Tyrion.”

“Told him what?”

“I don’t know...anything, everything, how I felt about him. I told him with my body, but never with my words, and I regret that. Petyr said I was doing something important for the kingdom, but he never said I would be betraying my Tyrion...that I would never see him again, that he would be blamed for Joffrey’s death. He must hate me so much! When I heard that he disappeared from the black cells, I rejoiced. I thanked the old gods and the new that he was not executed as the Queen wished. Petyr went mad with rage when he heard that Tyrion had escaped.”

“But where did you go after the godswood?”

Jeyne was silent, taking the blocks Beny gave her, and then handing them back when he held his little hand out. “Do you remember a man named Dontos?”

Sansa blinked. “Oh...yes...Joffrey wanted to kill him. I saved his life. My husband helped me.”

Jeyne nodded. “I don’t know if he knew the truth or not, but he said he was repaying a favor to my sister, to you, and took me out of the capital that night. Petyr was waiting for me on a ship out in the Bay. He hadn’t left to see Lady Lysa like everyone thought he had. He killed Dontos, said that the man would sell me out for a few gold dragons, that he had been paid to bring me to Petyr. Dontos was not my friend, but I felt bad for him. It wasn’t until we were setting sail that Petyr told me that my husband was still in King’s Landing and that he would be blamed for the murder of King Joffrey. I was just so shocked, I didn’t know what to say. Petyr told me that he was glad that I was such a good girl and could follow orders. He said I needed to keep my maidenhead safe, for once Tyrion was executed, I would be marrying again, this time to someone I would need to provide heirs to in order to secure my claim to his lands.” Jeyne fell quiet for several moments. “The day my moonblood came after I left Tyrion was one of the best and worst days of my life. Best, because...the fact that I had lain with Tyrion could be kept a secret from Petyr for a bit longer. It was also the worst because that meant that no part of him was left in me. Not his seed, not his child.”

“Oh, Jeyne...you love him? Truly love him?” Sansa squeezed her hand. Beny had no idea what was going on, but placed his hand over theirs.

“Der, der. Der, der,” he said. “Dun cry.”

Jeyne laughed. “I’ll try not to, little one, but I miss him terribly. Your father...he’s away in the war in the North, isn’t he?” Beny nodded. “Then you must know how I feel, wanting to see him and not knowing...” She fell silent.

“I understand, Jeyne. If you want...maybe you can stay with me, stay here in Winterfell, once Lord Baelish leaves back to the Vale.”

Jeyne shook her head. “He wants me to marry again, and I must entice my new betrothed during our time here, though this time under the guise of ‘Alayne’. I can’t be ‘Arya’ again, not since we heard she had become the Lady of the Crossing, so I’m not sure how this is to play out, but I’m sure Petyr has a plan. He usually does.”

“Who is your betrothed?”

“Oh, your cousin, Lord Robert ‘Sweetrobin’ Arryn. He’s a good boy, very sweet, though temperamental. And so very young… Tyrion is older than me by thirteen years, but it feels like nothing when we are together.”

“I never thought I would hear Jeyne Poole swooning over a man like Tyrion Lannister,” Sansa teased. “Love is a funny thing.”

Jeyne smiled. “And you? What of your husband?”

Sansa looked down. As much as she wanted to trust her old friend, she had been under the influence of Petyr Baelish for a long time, more than two years now.  _ Courage, Sansa. You must have courage. Nothing she has said has rung false. And she didn't tell anyone she saw me leaving King’s Landing. What would Sandor say? _ She could almost hear his voice in her ear.  _ Trust your instinct, little bird. _ She smiled at Jeyne. “Do you remember the Tourney of the Hand in King’s Landing?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Jeyne had returned!


	11. My Children Are Hungry

Jeyne had kept her word and not spoken of Sansa’s husband to her “father”, at least as far as Sansa could tell. She didn’t know why she felt Lord Baelish shouldn’t know that Sandor was her husband, but it was a strong feeling. That first night, before she had discovered Jeyne was Alayne, she had dreamt of Bran, and he told her to listen to that feeling. “Lord Baelish is a threat that must be eliminated, but now is not the time. The army, and your husband, will return in a fortnight.”

Now, Sansa was lying awake in bed, she had been dreaming of Sandor and had been dismayed when she woke up to discover it was only a dream. She had been dreaming of him every night since Bran had told her they were close by. _A fortnight. It's been twelve days so far, so only two more days. I can hold out for two more days._ It would be difficult, but she could do it. Maybe. She flopped over on the bed, screaming her frustration into her pillow so that her children wouldn’t hear her and wake up. She got so little sleep as it was, she was almost tempted to accept her mother’s offer for a wet nurse, just so she could sleep just a bit more. Sibby was much more demanding than Beny had been, but Maester Yenn said it was because Sibby was younger than Beny was when she started nursing him. She sighed. There was always one thing that helped her relax. She pushed her bottom up into the air and delved her hand in between her thighs. It wasn’t as good as when Sandor was there, but it would do in a situation like this. She soon felt the warmth pool in her belly, and imagined her finger was Sandor’s manhood stroking against her. _Ohhh...Sandor...yes, just like that. Please, Sandor, I’ve missed you so much!_

Her eyes flew open when she heard, “I missed you, too, little bird. If I had known I could expect this as a welcome, I would have ridden even harder to get here early.” She squeaked as her shift was pulled up and she felt Sandor ease into her, both of them giving a sigh of relief as he did.

After making love to her husband, she let him know exactly how much she missed him, hugging and kissing him, and making a general racket. Neither Beny nor Sibby approved. “I’ll get the pup,” Sandor said, rising from the bed. Sansa followed him, waiting to see his reaction to the second child. “Sansa.”

“Yes?”

“There’s...there’s two pups in the nursery.”

“Is there? How about that.”

“Sansa.”

She grinned at him. “Yes?”

“Is there something you want to tell me?”

“Now that you mention it… You left Beny a playmate. One just as beautiful and perfect as him. He has my eyes though.”

He grabbed her into a fierce hug. Her arms went around him and she felt tears on her shoulder. _He’s happy,_ she thought with a smile. “Cheeky little bird,” he whispered.

**********

“When?”

“When what?” She was nursing Sibby as Sandor sat on the floor with Beny. They had dressed, just a bit, with her wearing her shift and Sandor wearing half laced trousers.

“When did you give birth?” Beny was sleepily wobbling back and forth across the floor, trying to show his papa every new toy he had.

“Oh… Nearly a month and a half ago.”

“And still no name?”

She shook her head. “Beny has been calling him ‘Sibby’ ever since I told him he would have a new sibling. Everyone else just started copying him.”

“Could just call him Sibb.” Sandor caught Beny before he fell after tripping over one of his toys. “Back in the chest with them now, pup.” Beny wailed his upset, but started picking up his toys, stomping over to the chest and throwing them in.

“Sibb?”

“Why not? Sibb Clegane Stark, first of his name,” Sandor said with a grin. “Not everyday you get to give your child a brand new name.”

She laughed. “That’s true. Alright, Sibb. How do you like that?”

Sibby burped. “Let’s just take that as a yes,” Sandor said, as Beny launched himself at Sandor’s chest.

When they finally went to bed, Sandor's sleep was turbulent at best. His night terrors were back, but instead of fire or Gregor, it was the Others that haunted him. Sansa held him as best she could, but even her touch only calmed him slightly.

**********

Sansa introduced Sandor to Jeyne first. Jeyne had been nervous, but greeted Sandor warmly. Sandor carried Beny over his shoulder (Beny insisted on it) while Sansa carried Sibby, and Jeyne stood at her side. She had warned Sandor that Baelish would be at the breakfast table, but since Baelish had no warning, his reaction to seeing Sandor was noticeable, to say the least.

“Hound!” he exclaimed. “You...you’re alive!”

“Glad you noticed. What’s for breakfast?”

“Eggs, bacon, and ham,” Catelyn said, motioning for a servant to bring more plates. “You got back earlier than the rest of the army, Clegane?” Her tone was cold but Sansa was grateful that at least she wasn’t hissing at him. She greeted her cousin, Sweetrobin, with a kiss on the cheek. He was looking better than when he first arrived, much more color in his cheeks.

“Robb gave me leave to ride ahead. He came with me, though I suspect he'll be calling for breakfast to be sent to his chambers.”

“Cat...you...you know him? Knew that he was here?!”

“Of course, he’s my goodson. Not that I had _any_ say in the matter,” she said, glaring at Sandor. Beny wriggled until Sandor let him down and then raced over to his grandmother. “But Beny more than makes up for it. Sibby as well, if I ever get a chance to hold him.”

“Mother...I...maybe later.” Sansa was still excited about holding her son. She had never seen Beny at this age, so it was a novel experience.

“He’s the _Hound!_ Most feared warrior in all of the Seven Kingdoms! How is this not known??”

“Same as no one knowing about me, I suppose,” Sansa said, sitting on the bench carefully. Sandor held his hand on her back to help her balance. “No one spoke of it. Very few people knew of my existence to begin with. It was a little harder with Sandor, but the men in the army learned to respect his skills as a warrior and he was soon one of them. Why would they speak of his presence among our enemies? It would not do any good to lose a warrior like him. Don’t you agree?”

“The Lannisters would concur. They’ll find out about it. Eventually.”

“From who? The only ones who know of us that might tell are you and Alayne, but you’re such good friends of my mother, they surely won’t learn it from you, will they?”

“Of course not, sweetling. Of course not.”

**********

Robb emerged from his chambers much later in the day, Jeyne trailing behind him with stars in her eyes and little Ned in her arms.

“Robb, this is my childhood friend, Petyr Baelish. He's brought your cousin and his...daughter for a visit.” Catelyn skirted over the fact that “Alayne” was a bastard.

“King Robb,” Baelish said bowing his head low. Robb eyed the man, but corrected him.

“Just Lord Stark will do. Gave up my crown to the dragon queen. All the Northern lords were upset, but they saw it was the only recourse. Three huge dragons will tend to make people agree with you fairly quickly.” Catelyn look a bit relieved at his words. “Queen Daenarys is treating with Stannis at the moment, but he's likely to give up on his quest for the crown as well. Think he was a bit smitten by our eloquent and well-spoken Queen. Especially when she corrected Jon’s vocabulary. She'll be visiting us soon, though I already bent the knee to her. She wants to meet the famous House Stark.”

“Well, I am glad that I can be here for the monumental event,” Baelish said. “I was thinking of taking a walk around Winterfell, would you care to join me, Cat?”

“Perhaps another, Petyr. I would like to have some time with my children now that there are two of them under my roof.”

“Soon to be three, and hopefully four,” Robb said. Catelyn gaped at him. “Clegane, you didn't tell her?”

“Didn't think she'd want to hear it from me.”

“Mother, Bran is returning. He’s alive. Rickon as well. I sent a small group to retrieve him from hiding. He'll be back in a month or so.”

“My children? _All_ of my children? Alive?” she gasped.

“Yes, Mother. All of your children. If we can get Arya to visit, then everyone will be under one roof again, if only briefly.”

They hugged their mother as she sobbed with relief.

**********

Catelyn was with her in the nursery, holding Sibby and singing to him. Beny was already down for his nap, but Sibby was being stubborn.

“Petyr has offered for my hand,” she told Sansa. “I am considering accepting it.”

“Mother, no! You can't!”

“Why not? I am still of childbearing years, and it would unite the Vale with Winterfell. Bring a bit more peace to Westeros. Petyr would be kind to me. He was always kind to me. I will always love Ned, but I may grow to love Petyr as well. I think... I think we could be happy together. I could use some happiness. And some company. I am... I'm lonely, Sansa. The way you felt when Clegane was away, I've been feeling since I left your father in King's Landing. And this time I can choose my husband. I had thought another would ask me, but...he didn't return to Winterfell.”

“But…” She couldn't tell her, not yet. _Bran said to be patient. He arrives tomorrow._ “Perhaps just wait a little while before giving him an answer.”

Catelyn gave her an amused look, “Alright. I can do that. There's no rush.”

********

Bran arrived with the various armies of the North. Sansa noted that not as many men were there as had left Riverrun so long ago. “Casualties of war, little bird,” Sandor whispered when she nestled against his side and mentioned it to him.

“I'm glad you're good at killing,” she said. “If it means you'll come back to me.”

“Always, little bird.”

They didn't get to see Bran much that first day, as their mother fussed over him and didn't let anyone else get a word in edgewise. Sansa was starting to suspect Bran was exaggerating his frailty as well, a suspicion that was confirmed when her brother looked over at her and winked. She left Bran to his schemes, he was far more knowledgeable about the goings on thanks to his gift. She had her hands full of a schemer named Beny who was jealous of all the attention Bran was getting from Nanacat.

“Brienne, would you be a dear and smother Beny with so much love, he forgets about the newcomers for a bit?”

“Of course, Sansa. I would be delighted.” Brienne dropped her voice to a whisper. “Jaime's getting cabin fever again and would do with some distractions.” Sansa nodded and watched Beny toddle off after the large warrior. Ser Jaime had been confined to his quarters since Baelish arrived unexpectedly. He agreed that it was best that Baelish think he was still a prisoner, but he hadn't expected to be so bored. Beny would cheer him right up. “Unca Jemmy” was his third favorite non-parent. Brienne was first, and Catelyn second.

The dragon Queen had arrived a sennight after the army, a flurry of wings and roaring. The first snow had fallen and the dragons didn't like it, constantly shaking the snow off of themselves like dogs after a bath. She brought with her Sansa’s Uncle Edmure, and another familiar face. “Lord Tyrion! I had no idea you were part of the Queen’s court. It has been too long.” Sansa exclaimed. “Have you spoken to Lord Baelish yet?”

“Ah, no, he went directly to Dany. Didn’t even see me, but I suppose it’s easy enough to miss one such as I. It’s good to see you, Lady Sansa.”

“Please, call me Sansa. We, the Starks, had hoped you would seek shelter with us. Robb gave orders that if you did, you were to be given sanctuary and brought to him for your protection.”

Tyrion nodded, “I heard about that. I would have taken you up on it, if I had not been given other travel arrangements, that is. After Joffrey’s death and my sham of a trial, Varys shipped me across the Narrow Sea, then I took a very roundabout path to the Queen. Now...now here I am.”

She looked around quickly, but Jeyne was nowhere in sight. “I heard you married?”

Tyrion looked worse for wear than she remembered. The scar across his nose and upper lip had not done anything for his looks, though she could see what Jeyne meant about it being close. Just a tiny distance separated his current scar to completely missing his nose now. His smile was one that did not reach his eyes. “‘So fair a maid I married was she, that stole my heart and chucked it out to sea.’ But, I think you know by now that it was not really your sister I married. The Hound...Erm, I mean, Clegane tells me you married him, and you have a child together?” He looked at the babe in her arms.

“Two now. He found out the night he returned that he left me a gift before he marched north.” Sansa offered Tyrion a seat. The Queen was still speaking with Catelyn and Lord Baelish at the moment. “This one is Sibby. My eldest is with Brienne and Jaime at the moment. Would you like to meet with them later? Beny will just fall in love with you.”

“I have missed Jaime, and children are always a delight.” His smile was a bit more real now.

Sansa decided to take the direct approach. “Did you love her? The imposter, I mean?”

Tyrion sighed and tilted his head back. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Of course. Better now than when we last saw each other, and especially about love.”

“I suppose it doesn’t truly matter if you keep it a secret or not. I spent a long time hating her, after she abandoned me at the king’s wedding. But now I serve a good Queen, who helped me realize that holding onto hate is useless. I loved my pretty little wife, and I still do. I didn’t really hate her, you see. I hated myself, for not being able to keep her, to keep her safe. Who knows where she is now? If she’s even alive... Loving her is as useless as hating her, as I doubt I will see her again, and yet...and yet I love her still.”

Sansa noticed a familiar brown head. “I am _parched,_ are you, Lord Tyrion? Let me call for some wine. Alayne! Be a dear and bring some Dornish Red, please?”

Sansa scooted away from Lord Tyrion a bit as Jeyne, with her eyes down and her hair hiding her face again, brought over the small pitcher. “Lady Sansa, your wine.”

Tyrion's eyes went wide and his hand shot out, grabbing Jeyne’s wrist as Sansa took the pitcher to prevent spillage. “Jeyne?”

“Ty-Tyrion?!” she stuttered in surprise. “Tyrion!!” Jeyne fell to her knees and hugged him fiercely. “Thank the gods… You're alive,” she sobbed. “I was so worried…”

“You...you worried about me?”

“Not a day went by that I did not think of you and pray for your wellbeing. Please believe me, I had no intention of leaving you. I had no idea you would be blamed for…for what happened... I love you so much, Tyrion. Please, please don't hate me.”

Sansa glanced over at Baelish, who had taken notice of his “daughter” hanging off the Hand of the Queen. Queen Daenarys had taken notice as well.

“I don't hate you, Jeyne. I... I was _upset_ with you for a while, but I could never hate the woman I fell in love with.”

“Tyrion…” Jeyne leaned forward and kissed Tyrion with such passion that Sansa had to back up a few spaces.

“I've missed you, wife. My cock has missed you as well,” she heard him say. Jeyne giggled. _By the gods, is that what Sandor and I sound like?_ The content was surprisingly similar to conversations between Sansa and Sandor. _Hmmm...and now I'm think of Sandor's manhood. Where is my darling husband anyway?_

“Alayne! What do you think you're doing?” Baelish admonished. “Forgive my daughter Lord Hand, she has mistaken you for another.”

“Oh? Is that so? Have you mistaken me for another man?” Tyrion asked Jeyne.

“Never. No man could be like you, my lord.”

“Alay--”

“Enough, Lord Baelish,” the Queen said. “Tyrion, explain.”

“I believe I have just met my one true love, your grace. I wish to marry her immediately.”

“I forbid it,” Baelish said.

“I beg your _pardon?”_ Daenarys said, but Baelish ignored the Queen.

“Alayne, you are betrothed to Lord Robert Arryn. You _cannot wed the Imp.”_

“You would rather your _natural_ daughter wed a lord instead of the Hand of the Queen?!”

Baelish spun around, remembering that he was in the presence of said Queen. “I mean no disrespect, but Lord Robert is smitten by my girl--”

“I am not your girl!” Jeyne said, getting to her feet. “You stole me! Stole my family from me! And I will not let you take anything else!” She turned back to Tyrion. “My love, I did not abandon you that night. Petyr took me from the capital, after telling me that I must wear a certain piece of jewelry to the wedding. The hairnet that you so despised. He told me to leave the festivities after that horrid jousting act and go to the godswood. The fool Dontos took me from there to a ship, where Petyr was waiting on me. He killed Dontos and told me that one of the jewels was missing from the hairnet, stolen by his accomplice and dissolved into the king's wine. It was a crystallized form of the poison known as the Strangler. I didn't want to leave you, and I tried to get away but by the time I found a ship willing to take me back, I heard that you had disappeared. I stayed with Petyr, hoping that you would figure out it was him that orchestrated your fall from grace. You are so very smart and clever, I knew you were capable of it. And when you found him, I would be there, waiting for you.” Jeyne wiped the tears from her eyes. Sansa could see Tyrion's fist was clenched into a tight ball.

“Baelish…” Tyrion said, venom and malice in his voice.

“Stop this madness, sweetling, you are not well. Come with me, I will take you to your quarters, Alayne--”

“I am not Alayne! I am not a bastard and I am most _certainly_ not _your_ bastard! I am Jeyne Poole, trueborn daughter of Vayon Poole. He may not have been of a major house, but he was honorable, as was his liege lord, the man _you_ had killed.”

Catelyn gasped and it was Sandor who caught her, suddenly appearing out of nowhere. Catelyn didn't seem to notice.

Baelish was growing irritated, but couldn’t seem to see that the ruse was at an end. _“Alayne,_ dear child, you are speaking falsehoods. Please, let me--”

“No...by the gods,” Catelyn whispered. “Jeyne...it's really you… How did I not see? Why did you not say?”

Jeyne seemed to shrink a bit. “I… I couldn’t… He said… He said that you wouldn’t believe me, that you would never recognize me. But Sansa… She knew me, just from my voice, and… and that was enough. Then when Tyrion… I couldn’t take it, I love this man, and I don’t want to be Alayne anymore. Alayne isn’t the woman who loves Tyrion Lannister, nor is the false Arya Stark. It is Jeyne Poole, a simple girl from a simple land, but who loves him with all her heart.”

“You--”

“You have said enough, _Lord Baelish._ I wish to hear her speak.” A large bear of a man came forth and grabbed Baelish to restrain him. “Thank you, Jorah. Jeyne, is it?” Jeyne nodded. “Jeyne, please, tell me. What are you talking about? How did he steal you? What did he steal from you? Clearly, you are the woman my Hand has told me of, so I know some of your character, though some of that was clouded by deceit on the part of this man?” Jeyne nodded again.

“Your grace, Winterfell is my home. I was born here, I grew up here. I was part of the party that went with Lord Eddard Stark to King’s Landing, when King Robert asked him to be Hand. My father, Vayon Poole, was the steward of his household. They say that Lord Stark tried to steal the throne from Joffrey when King Robert died, but Lord Stark was not like that! He loved King Robert like a brother, and even if he had tried to take the throne from Joffrey, isn’t the extermination of nearly the entire Stark household more than a bit extreme? Especially since a good amount of the household were not warriors.”

“If Boros Blount hadn’t put her in my room, your grace, she might have been killed as well,” Sansa said. “I mentioned it to Cersei Lannister when she called for me three days later. Jeyne was gone from my room by the time I got back.”

Jeyne reached out and squeezed her hand. “Petyr came to the room and told me I had been placed into his care. He took me to one of the many brothels he runs, and I stayed there, learning how to please a man, though I was still a maiden when he told me I would become ‘Arya Stark’. Arya and I share similar coloring, you see, though our personalities are very different. Petyr told me I must pretend to be Arya and marry Tyrion, but Tyrion knew I was not her, and he was one of the few people I could truly be myself around. He...he was so kind to me, but Petyr told me that I must not let him consummate the marriage, at any cost. When he took me away after the king’s wedding, I found out why. He wanted me to marry Lord Robert Arryn’s heir, Harry Hardyng, and secure a claim on the Vale. When the _real_ Arya Stark was proclaimed the Lady of the Crossing after a botched assassination, the plan changed and I was to marry Lord Robert as Alayne Baelish, legitimized by whichever royal Petyr could convince to do it.”

Jeyne clenched her jaw, looking pained at what came next. “He killed Lady Lysa, pushed her through the moon door when she became hysterical, screaming that he never loved her. She had seen him caressing a small portait of Lady Catelyn. He blamed it on the singer, but I saw it. I was hiding in the room, trying to find some peace and quiet when they entered. I don’t know exactly what he planned for Sweetrobin, but I know he planned to get rid of him somehow and then join my claim on the Vale as his daughter to Winterfell, _if_ he could convince Lady Catelyn to marry him. When I asked him why now, that was when he told me that the fruit of Lord Stark’s death was nearly ripe to pick.”

 _Sandor was right...he was after my mother._ Sansa snuck a glance at Baelish. His face was paler than usual.

“I knew in that moment, that _he_ was responsible for the destruction of the Stark household in King’s Landing, and I couldn’t _do_ anything about it. He had safeguards in place should anything happen to him, and there was nowhere I could turn even if I _did_ make a move. At least, he did in the Vale, not here in Winterfell, in the seat of the Starks, yet I still couldn’t make a move. I had no idea if any of the people would even remember me. When I found out that Sansa was here, I couldn’t help myself. Petyr told me to stay away from her, but I thought that if she didn’t recognize me, then where was the harm? I could have my friend back, even if she knew me by a different name. But she recognized me, as soon as she heard my voice. That gave me hope. Hope that I could return to being Jeyne. Hope that I might be able to leave Petyr’s influence and search for Tyrion on my own.”

“These are most serious charges, Jeyne. While I am inclined to believe you, can anyone verify what you’ve said?” the Queen asked gently.

“I can,” Sandor said. Catelyn was sitting down, no longer in danger of falling into a faint. “Part of it, anyway. I was in the throne room when Lord Baelish betrayed Ned Stark. He held a knife to Stark’s throat and told him that he should never have trusted him. Additionally, before he was taken to Balor’s Sept to confess his crimes to the public, Littlefinger was a frequent visitor to Joffrey. I believe it was he who convinced Joffrey to change the sentence of banishment to one of execution, though I cannot be absolutely certain since I was not in the room, I was merely guarding the door. I… I was a Lannister dog at the time, shield to Joffrey since he was an infant. Your Hand can verify that part. I broke free of their hold and stole their prisoner of war, my wife, during a riot caused by Joffrey. I also know that Littlefinger told half of King’s Landing he had claimed the maidenheads of both Tully girls, Lysa _and_ Catelyn. I am loyal to Sansa of House Stark, and no longer keep Lannister secrets.” He looked down at Catelyn. “I’ve only ever told them to Sansa, however, since there were some trust issues when I first changed my loyalty.”

“You…” Catelyn stood up with fury in her eyes. She grabbed the dagger on Sandor’s belt, marched over to Baelish and forced the sharp tip into his soft belly before anyone could stop her. His eyes bulged in disbelief and pain. “You dared to call yourself my _friend_ , offer me marriage?! You killed Ned _and_ my sister! You stole from Jeyne, from me, from my children and only the _gods_ know who else. Well, the gods can deal with you now. I, Lady Catelyn of House Stark, find you guilty of theft and murder. Your sentence is death.” She tore the dagger through his flesh, his innards spilling out as he tried desperately to hold onto them. The bear man, Jorah, had let go of Petyr and was pulling Catelyn away from him.

“Cat...it was for you...only you…” Petyr whispered as he fell to the ground. “I only loved you…”

“That is not _love,_ Petyr,” Cat spat at him. “That is cruelty and selfishness that you claim to call _love._ I hope you burn in all seven hells!”

Jorah dragged Catelyn away, while several people rushed to Baelish’s side. Jeyne was horrified and had turned to Tyrion, who was holding her and stroking her hair. The Queen was a bit shocked, but was barking orders to anyone who could be useful. She knelt at Baelish’s side. Sansa was the only one paying attention. “I had such plans for you, Lord Baelish,” she heard the Queen say. “You were the one that convinced the Usurper to send assassins after me, after my child, were you not? Don’t try to lie. Jorah and Tyrion have already confirmed your actions, but it seems that was not your only sin. It’s a shame, really, that Lady Stark got to you before I did,” she said, drawing a long slender finger down Baelish’s cheek. “I would have drawn out your pain a bit more. But I suppose I will have to make do.”

The Queen rose to her feet. “Grey Worm.” A soldier appeared at her side. “Take Lord Baelish to my children. Be quick about it. He’s not long for this world and they are _hungry_.”

“At once, my Queen,” the man said, bowing, then lifting Baelish up and carrying him away.


	12. Loose Ends

Sansa was sorry to know Jeyne would be leaving, but happy that her friend had found closure and a new beginning as the wife of the Hand of the Queen. A mouthful of a title, but Jeyne was so very happy. She and Tyrion wed the day after Baelish’s death, forgoing the usual preparations and opting for a short ceremony. She used her real name this time and Sansa had never seen anyone so radient. She made sure that they were given chambers apart from the rest of the household and guests, for which Jeyne thanked Sansa immensely.

Jaime was thrilled by his brother’s marriage and told Brienne that they should do the same, which Beny screamed against and pushed Jaime away from Brienne, who was holding him at the time. Sansa was fairly certain he was saying something along the lines of “Uncle Jaime can’t marry Brienne, I’m going to marry Brienne, get away Uncle Jaime.” His speech was actually quite good for his age, but when he became agitated, such as when his uncle was trying to steal his future bride, it was reduced to almost nonsensical babbling that only Sansa was able to translate.

Brienne settled it by telling Beny that she would marry Jaime, but if it didn’t work out, or if Jaime died because someone decided he was too annoying, she’d come see Beny at once. He stared at Jaime for a good long while, doing Sandor proud, and said, “I 'cept.” He accepted the deal. Sansa worried that even a nearly two year old thought Jaime would likely get himself killed by opening his mouth.

Robb had missed out on all the excitement, but little Ned had had his first fever, which both he and Jeyne agreed was excitement enough for them. Sansa did not envy them. Beny had had a stomach virus during the journey to Winterfell. Even with both the maester's and her mother's assurances, it had been a hellish three days as they rested at Moat Cailin.

The biggest surprise came before the Queen and her entourage left for King’s Landing. Greatjon Umber had traveled with the army, but had deviated from the King’s Road for a short while, heading back home to the Last Hearth. He arrived at Winterfell a few sennights later, heading straight towards Catelyn. Sansa had been sitting with her mother, her goodsister Jeyne, her friend Jeyne and Sibby. Beny had gone with Sandor to exercise Stranger. Jeyne had nudged Sansa when the Greatjon entered the hall, causing her goodsister to look up as well. There were quite a few people in the hall at the time and it took a few moments before he located her.

“Cat!”

“Jon, we weren't expecting you for another month…”

“I heard the news about Baelish, and came as soon as I could.” He took her hands in his. The two Jeynes and Sansa gasped simultaneously.

“Yes...we were all distressed over that, but what about Last Hearth? You said--”

He waved it off. “Smalljon is taking care of it. He's ready to take on the mantle of Lord Umber. Baelish asked you to marry him?”

Catelyn was surprised, but nodded. “Yes, he did.”

“What did you tell him?” he asked. Although they knew what had happened, Sansa and the Jeynes found themselves watching with baited breath.

“I was considering his offer…before everything… Jon, why are you asking?” Sansa wanted to shake the confusion out of her mother. _She can be so dense at times!_

“You told him no then?” the Greatjon persisted.

“I didn't need to _say_ no, as I made things perfectly clear when I stabbed him in the belly… Jon, what is this about?”

“You...you stabbed him?” He looked impressed. _It had been rather impressive,_ Sansa thought to herself. She rose up, shifting Sibby to a more comfortable position.

“It was revealed that Lord Baelish was responsible for a great many misdeeds, Lord Umber. Mother was overwhelmed by it all and...well, stabbed him. It was kinder than what the Dragon Queen had in store for him.” Sansa smiled at the man. His jaw dropped a little, but he was returning the smile.

“Jon? Is something the matter?” Catelyn asked. She squeezed his hands. “I assure you that I am alright and--”

The Greatjon pulled Catelyn close and kissed her deeply. Sansa and Jeyne gasped in delight. “I thought I had lost my chance. Marry me, Cat. Please, marry me. Say you will be my wife and I will be the happiest man in all the world.”

Catelyn covered her mouth, shocked, but happy. She nodded and wrapped her arms around the Greatjon’s neck. “Yes, Jon, yes, I will marry you.”

Sansa smiled. Her goodsister whispered to her, “Did you have any idea about this?”

She shook her head. “None whatsoever. I think Bran might have, but Bran has ideas about a lot of things.” The three girls watched happily as the newly betrothed couple were given congratulations.

**********

The Queen stayed for a fortnight at Winterfell, speaking with Robb and absolving him of the crime of rising up against the Lannister held crown. She left with a small amount of her entourage, on the back of the dragons, to kick Cersei, Tywin, and Tommen out of the Red Keep. The rest would follow on the Kingsroad. Sansa, Jaime and Tyrion had many discussions with Daenarys about the Lannisters in the capital before she left. If all went well, Cersei and Tywin would be deposed, and Tommen would be allowed to become Lord of Casterly Rock with his wife Margaery at his side, and his great uncle Kevan as his advisor.

The wedding of Catelyn and the Greatjon was held nearly a month later in the sept and then another ceremony in the godswood immediately after. The Greatjon had handed Last Hearth over to his son, and said he would go wherever Catelyn wanted. Edmure had become part of Queen Daenarys’ small council, and asked Catelyn to watch over Riverrun in his stead, which the Greatjon was more than happy to tag along for. He said he had enjoyed his time in Riverrun, despite his reason for being there. “As long as I can be with you, darlin’, I’ll be happy no matter what.”

As much as she wished her father was still alive, Sansa loved seeing her mother happy again, and wished them well when they set off to Riverrun.

Bran was also to serve the Queen, as a special advisor, that was taking the longer route to the capital. Meera Reed would return to her home, but Jojen decided to go with Bran to King’s Landing.

The Dreadfort was given to Rickon, with one of the trusted Frey men sent to guide him and teach him to be a lord. Rickon was to be the start of a new branch family, though Robb nixed the suggestion of Rickon becoming the first Lord Shaggystark. Rikstark was approved, though Sansa thought it sounded a bit odd. _No odder than Karstark, I suppose._

Arya had been upset to miss out on everything, including seeing the dragons, but she had plenty of excitement of her own. A small faction of Freys loyal to Walder’s memory had risen up to overthrow her. She had quashed the uprising, almost completely on her own, but her shield, Gendry Waters had proven himself her equal with his warhammer. He was apparently a natural with it. Arya wrote that she was with child again, adding in that the child had been conceived when her blood was up. _The child will most likely have blue eyes like Lyanna. I feel bad for my husband, just a bit. He is considered nothing more than a stud horse by the rest of the castle. He drinks heavily and doesn’t remember most of our time together._ Sansa sighed as she read the letter and knew what Arya meant. Her husband had no memory of laying with Arya, or not laying with her, as the case was. It was little wonder she was able to get away with bedding Gendry and passing his children off as Freys.

**********

“And you, Sansa?” Robb asked her. “What are you going to do now? You don’t need to stay in Winterfell, though there will always be a place for you and your family here.”

Sansa leaned back in the chair across from her brother’s desk. They were in his study, formerly their father’s. There were still touches of Ned Stark everywhere, reminding her of years long past. Robb had told her that he sometimes felt like an intruder, though their father had always welcomed his children in and never turned them away. “I appreciate that, Robb, I really do, but Sandor and I want to start somewhere new. Sort of. We’re going to live in Clegane’s Keep, but we’re going to raze it and then rebuild it. Jaime is currently at Casterly Rock with Brienne, Tommen and Margaery. Tommen’s said that we can stay with them until the new Keep is finished. We’ll be leaving after Beny’s next nameday, a month from now.” She could hardly believe her son was nearly two years. _How far we have all come in that time._

Ser Kevan had turned down the offer to help Tommen, and has returned to his own home. Jaime was confident that Kevan will change his mind in a year or two, that he just needed some time to get over his brother’s betrayal. Tywin Lannister had welcomed Daenarys into King’s Landing, but had attempted to have her assassinated before she could take her throne. Kevan had been the one to stop the assassin. The two brothers had fought, coming to blows. It ended with Tywin digging a dagger into Kevan’s side and Tyrion’s crossbow bolt through his father’s stomach to keep him from killing Kevan. Cersei had lost her mind in that moment, and tried to kill Tyrion, but Jeyne had saved her husband and stopped Cersei by tackling her to the ground. Cersei was awaiting trial for attempted murder of the Queen’s Hand, as well as a few other crimes.

“Ser Gregor is dead, and the land needs to be cleansed of his villainy. Sandor has his doubts, but I have faith. We’ll be renaming it as well, though we have yet to decide on what. I will be glad to be closer to Arya and Brienne. Maester Yenn wants to go with us. He doesn’t like the cold very much, and the steward at Clegane’s Keep said they had been without a maester since Gregor killed the last one. He’s going to approach you soon about his replacement.”

“He’s a good maester, and I hate to lose him, but the North is not for everyone. Very well. As long as you’re happy, Sansa, I suppose there’s nothing I can say against this. Your husband and your family come first.” Her mother may not have warmed to Sandor completely, but Robb had. Sansa had spotted them drinking together on many a late night. _War really can bring people together in the oddest ways._ She wondered if Robb suffered from the same night terrors that Sandor faced, but didn't ask. It was not something she would ever be able to understand, and if Robb wanted to talk about it, he would. She made sure that he knew she was there if he needed her.

Sansa smiled. “Thank you, Robb.”

“Any ideas at all for what you are going to rename it?”

She signed and leaned back. “None yet, though we have been speaking about it. We’ll think of something. Maybe we’ll let Beny name. I suspect that if it wasn’t for him, a lot of things wouldn’t have happened, so really, it’s his right.”

“As long as it’s something sensible. He told your husband yesterday that he wants to name his first pony Ser Horsepoopy.”

Sansa laughed. “Yes, well, we have time. The Queen is restoring peace to the land. Our family may be scattered across Westeros, but we are never too far from one another. I have a wonderful husband, two wonderful sons. Life is good, and I have a feeling we shall all prosper under this new reign. Long live our queen, and may we be strong enough to shoulder any troubles that may visit us.”

Robb raised his goblet. "I'll drink to that."


End file.
